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    In the City of Art

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    In the City of Art

      Selected Poems

      By

      J. Berchman Bernard Stewart

      Copyright 2013 J. Berchman Bernard Stewart

      Proofreading and additional formatting by Joey Abisso

      “In the City of Art the King is a beggar’’

      Table of Contents

      The Halcyon Hours

      The Early Rose

      Weigh This Heart

      In the City of Art

      Throne of Granite

      War’s Gold Ring Of Terrible Wisdom Gained

      Lamentation

      On the Qualities of Mercy I Beg to Differ

      Nor’easter

      That Thieving Christmas Souse Mouse

      Flash Flood

      Seraphs In Attics Descend

      Hearts On Panes

      Night’s blizzard seen when the blinds are raised in the morning

      Unbecoming

      Footfalls

      Spring's Rummy Bum Bees

      A Snowman’s Days Are Thine

      Passin’ Thru

      Storm In The Desert

      First

      Divorce

      Platinum Texas Oil Princess

      Sundials Riding Time’s Glacier

      The Ski Lift to Paradise

      Chance Meeting Among Roses

      Long Gray March of Remembrance

      The Dance At The Lake

      On The Fourth

      Chumps

      First love

      The Princess Salome Surrenders Her Jerusalem to Alexander the Great

      The Halcyon Hours

      Could be stayed, the Female Halcyon Hours

      Where lie lithe willow limbs’ luring powers

      Go stay the verdant eve of Peach and Cream

      Seize its long languid dusk’s slant amber beams

      Make wait the green-eyed sea’s departing tide

      Bind it lapping the blonde strand’s sand long wide

      Tower of Ivory, House of Gold stay

      The Satin Alabaster Altar fades

      The Early Rose

      With turned up collar I’ll go stroll

      that worn grass trail so windy cold,

      which wends past graves where faded pale,

      tattered frail Christmas ribbons flail.

      Chill bare branches will drip snowmelt,

      gaunt gray woods and fields still wet.

      Trembles not yet a foal or fawn

      shaky, weak, up from dew damp lawn.

     

      Yet, if seen on the graveyard’s wall

      that early burning ruby rose,

      blooming there in the late snowfall,

      I’ll touch its velvet to my nose,

      and know then that I’ve been given

      one more Spring here... to live again.

      WEIGH THIS HEART

      NOW COME AND WEIGH THIS HEART

      BUT FOR A FAIR MEASURE

      PLEASE LEAVE LOVE’S SMALL TREASURE

      WHAT IRON SET APART

      THEN PLACE IT ON TIME’S SHELF

      NEXT TO THAT FRAGILE DUST

      YET MIND LEST TOUCH THE DUST

      THAT DUST WAS I MYSELF

      In the City of Art

      Thy brush I claim harem

      Uncover yours mine arm

      and up now hence depart

      unto the City of Art.

      Roar there my glorious power

      subsumed within a sunflower.

      Hurl stooped my meek Son,

      reaping, his poor among.

      Jerusalem’s deaf ears

      my Prophets killed.

      My Prophet Vincent here,

      in Art, deaf eyes will.

      THRONE OF

      GRANITE

      Time rules from Granite thrones

      Arrayed in this thrown down

      Crisp snowy Seraph’s gown

      Gray Headstones for his crown

      His treasure trove Leaves brown

      High praise the bare limbs moan

      All in time King Time owns

      The Lord of all the sown

      War’s Gold Ring Of

      Terrible Wisdom Gained

      Eternal, for all, awaits this carousel.

      Frozen pose its wild steeds bejeweled.

      In mirrors bright bulbs dizzy spin

      as bubbles in champagne do swim.

      The steam pipe organ cracks its cheeks.

      A hundred trumpets blow, drums beat.

      Ominous the widow waltz it hums.

      Brave young come, strapped laughing on,

      no escape allowed them. What fun!

      The orbit goes slowly round then

      faster rotates to another one.

      Shriek screaming forth, returning fly.

      Desire for this irony makes us buy.

      Age to age we pay much to ride, till

      it stops, and those few left will.

      all off crawl, so ill.

      Gleaming, ready the ride patient waits.

      For tender warriors endless it’s appetite

      Happy to instruct arrogant generations

      in life’s tragic, ghastly riding lesson.

      Dismount fools drenched in hell’s pain,

      War’s gold ring of terrible wisdom gained.

      Lamentation

      Heads bared, stunned, orate can none.

      Silent encircle, enter only honor in.

      Let no stain of pretense come

      near this fallen’s true devotion.

      Ohh!  I have lived too long,

      to see buried this young friend.

      Earth covets us these finest,

      must slake its envious thirst

      and drinks so soon our very best,

      just helmet, boots, medals leaves,

      so little left on which to grieve.

      Bright eyes gone lifeless close.

      Now slips away a noble soul

      to up fly in the heavens starry.

      Come… swift, reach up just then

      to last touch much loved friend.

      One so faithful could never fail

      and will command a moment tarry,

      thus, for seconds precious will

      tower o'er all and last salute flail,

      present and accounted for... still.

      On the qualities of

      Mercy I beg to differ

     

      Mercy is not like rain at all,

      It does not fall,

      it floats, drifts thither,

      a speck of a feather.

      Yet, like rain too, whither

      mercy comes and goes,

      you can never really know.

      Today it’s a nun… next

      A drunken bum

      you least expect

      his paper bag pint shares

      cigarettes from the homeless hag?

      Un-believable-

      You know, I’m almost glad

      I’m down in this sad pit.

      That small kind touch,

      there is so much of it.

      I might have missed all this.

      Mercy abounds anointing all

      In this awful place

      filled with the fallen or disgraced.

      Wondrous little deeds so generous,

      not forced or feigned, plain goodness

      circulates, kind, patient

      Rain falls, but mercy forth pours.

      Have Give Drink Take

      Your face upraise

      Drown eyes, lips, with its drops.

      Oh, one more thing… rain stops.

      Mercy never stops.

      Forever slakes this thirst… So sweet to taste

      Meditation on the virtue patience

      NOR’ EASTER

      In winter storms I sometimes walk

      our lane of frozen mud

    &nb
    sp; which just last autumn past was muck

      that tires sculpted into ruts

      Once while I went my way

      by fence of pale gray rails

      I came upon a mare

      crusted in pearls of hail

      standing with vacant stare

      mute and numb, endured

      the tempest’s tortures

      seeming not to mind or care

      Oh… would I were that mare

      could that serene take hurled

      world’s misery on me inculcate,

      thus merit her veil of patient pearls

      when flail not ‘gainst sad snowy fate

      That patient mare she knows

      To gain the virtue patience pearls

      You need not ‘neath seas go at all

      You need not go down out the gate

      With sail of patience unfurled wait

      Nor’easter’s misery will fly to thee

      T’will fair thee pearly all o’er with sea

      “That Thieving

      Christmas Souse Mouse"

      Ah! Christmas Eve…‘tis great!

      All the ho hum holiday

      about the master’s house

      I {saucy lout} doth lay

      and 'pon my fur luxuriate

      while pait’ly wait

      till late lights douse.

      Thence boldened by belly

      to sweetmeat thief intent,

      I do thence genrelly

      feats o' larder larceny commence

      Shh! So hoho scairry!! Hear!

      That chewme cat mews… Near?

      Ai Yi Yikes! Crikey!

      Dat cat’s teeths spikey.

      Yet, feary that cat so

      scary, wary I still will go.

      Pelt hairy raised I’ll race…!!

      Haymake, waylay, and dreyaway

      much Mickelmouse cake.

      Silky Slinks m'slinks

      The masters spilled drink,

      carousing, m' drinks.

      Then, woozy eyes fogged

      by boozy drops egg nogged,

      wild mincy capers m’ capes.

      Sigh, I moust confess!

      Drunk as a skunk...yessss,

      I should desist?...desist?

      Tell me, could you resist

      such Candlemas largesse?

      Cock crows the morn!

      Drat!!..So soon the Dawn?

      Now swagbag drag content

      I give way ta mum n' gent.

      Yes this rummy must repent.

      Hence someday sway to S. A.

      {That’s Souse Anonamouse}

      But, faith, I pray no way,

      till wake on New Year’s day.

      FLASH FLOOD

      Too many a poke heard late

      a storm’s thunder rumble,

      hence missed a flashoff's roar.

      Thence I 'spect met his fate

      splashin' through heaven's door

      mount an' all there drenched

      soakin' wet up against

      too early … that pearly gate.

      Seraphs In Attics Descend

      On the frost-laced porch I smoked

      a Christmas cigar with no coat,

      my hands shaking ‘round a hot bulb,

      shivering from the cold’s assault.

      Snowmen with fixed accusing stares

      guard the children’s snow angels flared.

      Then open doors send gold light thrown

      on diamond piles of moonlit snow.

      These faithful ranks of bright porch lights

      defy this darkest winter night.

      High soft winds stir gray bare limbs and,

      again, attic’s Seraphs descend.

      Hearts On Panes

      On cold gray days our

      fingers drew hearts on

      rainy, steamy panes.

      Those misty hearts would fade,

      but with our breath blown there,

      hearts lost appeared again.

      Sometimes those panes would break,

      then taking some small pains,

      broken panes whole we’d make.

      Yet, when our hearts are broken,

      words in cold air spoken

      are just useless clouds spurned.

      Never lost hearts return.

      Never come back again…

      Night’s blizzard

      seen when the blinds

      are raised in the morning

      Deep white’s advance.

      Swift winds whirled twirled

      drifts hurled to swirled

      steep inclined slants.

      Unbecoming

      Tentative the panther steps

      Motionless the python flicks

      Parrot green canopy smolders

      Carved stone blocks molder,

     

      “Panther, whence gone these Maya?

      Why and wherefore pray?”

     

      Panther, parrot, python say:

      “Maya out of Maya take

      Maybe thousand hearts a day.

      Crazy blood soaked selves negate.

      Hence the Maya away went …

     

      Panther, parrot, python stay.”

      FOOTFALLS

      These Christmas ribbons they

      on graves gaily hailing

      forlorn pale fade sure

      when the faithful step

      to life away swept

      hence fail come manicure

     

      or death silence all

      save gardener’s footfall

      Spring's Rummy Bum Bees

      Vaults Spring sun a buttery bright yellow

      in baby blue sky hurled high o’er all.

      Glisten candy petals red burning ruby.

      Blossom jewels wet lacquer drool honeys.

      Venus desires wild wanton riot,

      Wills her flowers all intoxicate

      Mad distilling, spilling perfumes enthrall.

      See! bees so tipsy stupor woozy

      they sideways drift boozy drowsy.

      Ah! The Squire Bumble comes to call,

      fumbles backwards, stumbles, stalls.

      Feigns nectar's chambers enter, halts, tease,

      tickle lickle... Pause... Sudden flees?

      Left bereft flowers much displeased

      Cry "Oh! That fickle drunk bee bum.

      That does it! We are done with him.

      What a miserable little rummy.

      Run off again with his puffed up

      hussy Miss Prissy Breeze Puff."

      “A Snowman’s Days Are Thine”

      In July’s grass I spied

      a tuft of colors frayed.

      Up I pulled an old lost cap;

      a memory it conveyed.

      This was the long-lost hat

      of the first snowman that

      merry here we rendered.

      His glory descended

      till hung from a slush stump,

      sad carrot, hat, coal lumps,

      That’s when so young we learn

      Time’s our enemy stern

      We, too, have snowman’s days.

      It seems of snow we’re made.

      Bequeathed cruel Earth will leave

      hat, scarf, upon to grieve.

      With a sadness that never ends

      I see those snowman friends

      Out lacey windows they exist.

      In winter’s reverie persist.

      In Memory’s misty pane see

      there my small face with joy wintry,

      and pain when my first snowman thence

      melted the bliss of innocence.

     

      Passin’ Thru

      Reined up, stopped to smoke.

      Match on my beard scratch.

      The fat cloud's shadows black

      quilt the vast valley patched.

      Passin’ thru Horse n'me,

      Goin' into history

      nobody here what cares,

      'cept bossy rattler there.

      Easy now horse
    you hear?

      Don't fret rear up all scared

      Rattler jus' havin' fun,

      Drinkin’ too much lucky sun.

      His noisemaker he displays.

      Ceaseless wild shakes

      starts rattlin' thataway

      Boozy disgraced snake.

      Use any ol' 'scuse to drink

      Every ding-dong day

      New Years’ Eve celebrates.

      So he says… So him thinks!

      Storm In The Desert

      Horse n' I spy on out

      half a day ride about,

      traipsin’ comin’ sideways,

      ol' stumble bum storm gray.

      Been drinkin' all day, now

      him shoutin’ an spoutin’,

      kickin’ up wraithy drapes

      of misty, rainy spray.

      He's muttrin' and rumblin'

      Somethin' he's there grumblin!

      Go' on let fly those tears,

      Just us nobodies here.

      Your secret's safe with me

      You raging gray King Lear.

      First

      Is not that first drop of rain

      rain enough to say ‘sweet it rained?’

      More drops of rain be but “more rain this”

      yet n’er sweeter e’er the first drop's kiss.

      Homage au E.A. Poe

     

      Divorce

      We ghosts hold fast here...You ask why?

      On love's remains we sobbing lie

      Would stop dead love to tomb bring.

      Around love's cold neck our arms cling.

      Love's catafalque we hover near.

      We struggle at love’s bier to bide.

      Having no place to be left here,

      in empty lonely houses hide.

      And when the light gloaming gray fades,

      there on chairs we wraiths silent wait.

      Stone-Statue still, death-masked just sit,

      crying all through the night's black wake.

      Bruised purple will break the day.

      Knocks the relentless, heartless Sun,

      Morn’s pale pallbearer mists then come,

      again Love they’ll convey away.

      Perchance you meet we ghosts, don’t fear.

     
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