“The secret of genius is to carry the spirit of the child into old age, which means never losing your enthusiasm.”
~ Huxley
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“I’ve been as bad an influence on American literature as anyone I can think of.”
~ Dashiell Hammett
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You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.Share this:
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The sun turns black, earth sinks in the sea, The hot stars down from heaven are whirled; Fierce grows the steam and the life-feeding flame, Till fire leaps high about heaven itself.
~ The Poetic Edda
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“When words cease to cling close to things, kingdoms fall, empires wane and diminish.”~ Ezra PoundShare this:
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Such words, poetry rare
Exulting reality
Into voice Expression
Into being
Being into form.
From out of ashes
Out of seasons
Years time and reason
And from out of every man
Woman born
Conceived.
All truths shadows And all loves
Destructions and voices
Perceived
Complete and thus returning
Like Angels
Like Gods
Again to tell their stories
Or to tell the tale
The myth, the verse or the prayer
The hymn manifested
Again
For here is your
Hero
Your villain
And your Goddess renewing
The world
And here is your song:
Their song
Our song
All songs
Beginning &
Then ending again
These poems and these words
A dance A waltz
These songs remaining, returning
Like every prophecy foretold in
The past The present & The future
Born from
Every sun
Every star
Every moon
And every daughter
Within every universe
Contained.
For this place, world
Is a universe made up
Of dust & words, language
And resurrections
Hello
Goodbye
Farewell
Love
Death
And sorrows
Vision.
Such words, such voices
Poetry rare
Exulting reality beyond
A human heart
So human, so frail
This song which never ends.
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Poet-Writer R.M. Engelhardt’s work over the years has been published and has appeared in many journals & magazines in both print and on the net including Danse Macabre, Rusty Truck, Sure! The Charles Bukowski Newsletter, Thunder Sandwich, The Boston Literary Review, Full of Crow, Fashion For Collapse, 2nd Avenue Poetry, The Outlaw Poetry Network & in many others. He is currently the editor of “The Literary Rogue” .
His new book, The Resurrection Waltz is his 13th book of poetry and is now available on Amazon.com
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CRIMSON is the slow smolder of the cigar end I hold, Gray is the ash that stiffens and covers all silent the fire. (A great man I know is dead and while he lies in his coffin a gone flame I sit here in cumbering shadows and smoke and watch my thoughts come and go.)
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO W.B. YEATS !
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