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    Rose Colored Windows

    Page 2
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    From their beds

      And you make a sound

      Like the leaving

      Of the sparrows

      The Children Sleep

      The children sleep

      The lovers rest

      The clocks unwind

      The sun it sets

      The cross is raised

      And the pain reborn

      From the graves of regret

      From the turning thorn

      The hearts expand

      And then withdraw

      These open wounds

      Touched with awe

      These arms stretched wide

      On brand new hills

      That move the water

      Till at last it's still

      For the end seems blind

      But draws its strength

      From the argument of time

      Which has no length

      And time is a prayer

      In its ordered research

      That sweeps out the stable

      For His coming rebirth

      I Move Towards It Slowly

      I move towards it slowly

      Weaving in and around

      Towars the distance

      Of certain Monastic ambitions

      Hands spread the disorder

      And draw it back in pattern

      Like lilies seen

      In a distant field

      I haven't the stomach for fasting

      Or weaving baskets

      And I'm not kept awake at night

      By the blemishes of the world

      I am generally content with my pay

      I have no wife to quarrel with

      And no children to drag me from sleep

      To invent me into a different man

      I just want to forget something

      That I can't remember

      As I work all alone

      On my wretched little life raft

      The Warmth Comes On

      The warmth comes on

      This energy spellbound in a room

      Someone chimes a bell

      The sound begins,

      But seems never to dissolve

      I see now the sense

      Of using the bell as a tool

      For the students of enlightenment

      Every voice blurs together

      During the chanting

      As we try to touch

      The shining part

      Inside our forehead

      Scented smoke lifts itself to the ceiling

      Everything has a

      celebratory funeral air

      Where parting thoughts

      Are given golden exits

      And where colorful

      Preparations are made

      For the arrival of the Buddha

      Whom we will kill

      I Opened Myself

      I opened myself

      To the art of all occasions

      As finally as death

      I needed proof

      That reality is more

      Tender than harsh

      But I have found

      That harshness is the rule

      And tenderness,

      Only the exception

      Now I have sworn away

      What I will never restore

      Truths I shed

      Like old styles of dance

      And I have reaised a barricade

      To encircle myself

      I am done with

      Dead words

      And with philosophies

      That bury our deepest miseries

      Like old fossils

      I resurrect them

      To hang from

      Gentle wires

      In the dark museums

      Of my heart

      I long for the rules

      That make a man free

      Because I have no energy

      To create them

      I am away from

      The flock

      That strives ceaslessly,

      Unaware of itself

      Because it is just itself

      I am always only in

      Movement

      Towards myself

      But never there

      I want to touch water

      Without losing my

      Reflection

      Because I am

      Dying all the time

      Like a flower aside,

      Getting too much light

      There is an art

      I have found,

      As final as life,

      That turns into itself

      To find the sun

      From The Deep Wells I Draw You Up

      From the deep wells I draw you up

      Into my thirst, into my longing

      I see you draw a wrist through your hair

      And I want to become that wrist

      I see you in an afternoon's sun

      That shatters blossoms above

      And comes down like honey

      And I want to be that sun

      I see you in the rain

      It's hands touch all of you at once

      Pressed close to every part

      And I want to become that rain

      And every breath draws us nearer

      Until we breath as wave and wind

      Unitl I become everything that touches

      And you become everything touched

      Barely Yet Accustomed To Summer

      Barely yet accustomed to summer

      The autumn comes

      As all along the promenade

      They slowly pass

      Elegant silk ladies

      Of soprano composure

      And men with top hats

      Who move in baritone

      And spread out over leaves

      The lady's dress trains go

      Shifting in form and color

      Like peacock's tails

      And from the waist

      The men ever-so-slightly bend

      To subtle glances slipped

      From behind a blushing fan

      I Have Resigned Myself

      I have resigned myself

      To a life of poetry

      The reason for this

      I did not find

      In perfect books

      By perfect men

      Or in the eyes of things

      My father killed

      It came to me

      In visions I could

      Not prove

      With words

      I could not get

      My mouth around

      Here Is My Inner Peace

      Here is my inner peace

      That on a plate to you I give

      Like John the Baptist's head

      That never begged to live

      Here is the flesh from my body

      And here are my ashes to dirt

      Here is my hand in your mouth

      And here is my hand up your skirt

      Raised higher, higher that heaven

      Up here on my raven's perch

      Lower your eyes to find me

      Or give up the bloody search

      Though Unaware Of All But You

      Though unaware of all but you

      I will not drag you through my empty spaces

      Burn all my candles, or struggle in vain

      And though chains may hold me

      My singing body will never be

      Crucified to any door

      No flower may bloom

      No shrieking gull draw near

      Without first being contracted to my song

      This is the beast that moves

      Slow as winter fish,

      And that speaks the length of the sea

      And these are the creaking orchards I sit in,

      While I skate my little words

      Over the surface of your frozen ponds

      Amen

      This word is a stone

      In the water of my tongue

      Amen

      There is no saviour

      For the perfect flesh

      No redemption

      For the uncorrupted

      I am shattered and still

      Under this dark blossom


      But silence has never

      Broken me

      And words never

      Shown me the light

      So amen

      Both light and silence

      Are just birds anyway

      Caught in the thorns,

      Wings spread

      I Am Waiting For The Light

      I am waiting for the light

      Your light

      To be given

      Waiting like clouds await rain

      Like forests await autumn, and spring

      And as the mother awaits the child

      Here is my dark song

      I am waiting for your song of light

      And for the empty houses of the heart

      To be filled at last

      Empty Of The Raven, Empty Of The Dove

      Empty of the raven, empty of the dove

      Empty of the hatred, empty of the love

      Empty far away, empty in your sight

      Empty of the words, that fill the dark with light

      Empty of the hunger, empty of the thirst

      Empty of the blessing, empty of the curse

      Empty as a vessel, dried up in the sun

      Empty as a basin, where the waters do not come

      And now I come a-kneeling

      With my hands upon my face

      And my little begging bowl

      Stretched out for your grace

      And now I come with prayers

      And now I come without

      To offer up my heartache

      My burden and my doubt

      The Morning Started Early

      The morning started early

      Through your hair.

      Detail by detail

      The child restores itself

      Next to you

      In its sleep.

      I am almost gone.

      I was almost never here.

      I have no artifacts

      To prove that I lay awake

      To watch the strange hands of

      The wind all night

      Wondering how they could resist

      Touching the moon, just once

      To see if it is warm or cold

      Every movement you make

      Seems to bring you more sadness

      And the child is always so

      Undisturbed and still

      Like an unrung bell

      Speak or be silent in sleep

      It is all just the tearing of

      An insect's wing

      You are there

      As slow in waking as

      Stars in their celestial beds

      As I draw the curtain of

      Birth from my mouth

      And try not to struggle

      And try not to be hungry next to you

      I Have Dreamed Of Hiding Away

      I have dreamed of hiding away from the world,

      To learn the verses of light

      To learn with hands, small inner hands

      What moves this bursting sap

      This slow moving through my body

      We shift and bend the contours of the heart

      Into prismatic shapes

      And we summit each wave

      And fall to each depth

      As persistant as wave on sand

      But how can I tell you

      What will not leave the tip of my tongue

      That I may never have the skill

      To publish the full book of love,

      Or impoverish myself to those heights

      It Has All Become The Deepest Of Echoes

      It has all become

      The deepest of echoes

      It has all become

      About style

      And about who created who

      And who killed what

      But until you are

      As smooth as stones

      Beneath me

      I will not force you

      To answer

      Consult with a

      Dream if you must

      Even a partial one

      Or a torn seagull

      Pool-eyed beneath a

      Half wave of sand

      Bring me a sunbeam

      Or a waterfall

      In your palm

      But do not carve me

      Another heart into a

      Beach stone with a pin

      Or bring me a

      Polished victim list

      That ends my work

      You know that I

      Said goodbye

      Twelve poems ago

      And that every

      Word since then

      Has been a lie to

      Take away what

      You wouldn't give me

      And that every

      Word before then

      Was a lie for what

      I could not receive

      Lift Up Your Eyes

      Lift up your eyes

      To where birds of prey

      Linger for a moment

      Circling, and tilting their wings

      Above the chosen kill

      Now fear and dread take hold

      As fallen veils reveal to holy men

      The sign of empty purpose

      That smears itself across the

      Dark stable's door

      Below, the rivers of deluge

      There in the wide valley

      Where meadows once sang

      Now parched land upon parched land

      Endures the beasts in their dying caravans

      And thirstily too we wander

      With throats dry and hunger deep

      Past the burning fields

      And past the burning men

      Dancing on their cosses of fire

      Now whose hand is that

      Touched in the darkness by mistake?

      And what brides of red are these

      Paraded on the naked threshing floor

      As children with faces of pale play their games

      Empty upon empty we hang

      As empty as the spaces between the turning worlds

      As the nameless grace is named

      And the longing hearts are replaced

      With the distant remains of echoes

      And dried to bones, the rivers and the clouds

      Now rises flames, now risen ashes

      The sky finally succumbs to the darkness

      As the stars all fade away

      Like tiny sails on the horizon

      And the sun and the moon no longer rise or fall

      To reveal the ghostly faces to one another

      With their eyes like empty wells

      Or the pillars of crumbling salt

      That the leaving rains have left behind

      I Move To You

      I move to you

      Like the sea moves to the shore

      Always returning, with every exhale

      And like the waves

      You wished me whisper

      So I made my voice into softly crying grass

      Then you wished for me to find you

      And so like a lost child

      I searched all my life in your arms

      Then you wished for music

      So I trained my fingers and my voice

      Until the winter's silence was melted into spring

      You wished me to be guilty

      So I chained myself to you

      Like a prisoner to a tree

      You wished me to be clay

      So I threw myself on the ground

      And breathed the breath of Adam

      You wished me to be blessed

      So I took up the dark mantle

      And prayed in disipline by your side

      You wished me to surrender

      So I took up arms against you

      And threw them down again at your feet

      You wished me to praise you

      So I wrote you beautiful ballads

      Where the Knights all touched your hair

      But the silence of your moving

      And the flight of the holy dove

      Are too perfect over the river of the flood

      And the stones I have
    tied to my ankles

      Tear like a scar through the sky

      From the wings of a graceless bird

      I Do Not Wait

      I do not wait

      For weeds to bloom

      Or for lost Empires

      To reclaim their

      Shadows

      I only wait for

      The moment

      When you will

      Undress yourself

      In some other

      Man's mind.

      Why Not Dance Here Awhile?

      Why not dance here awhile?

      Why not dance to this playing dirge,

      To these tamborines and drums?

      The Great Death is upon us

      The cities are burning

      And the whole world is coming down!

      Dance and laugh at death

      Who is smiling to himself

      In the torchlight

      Smile right back

      And hang onto life

      By a lute player's string

      Then glide past the children

      All piled in their heaps

      So high they block out the sun

      Now their laughter is all ended

      No longer tinkling

      Like little golden bells

      Swirl and twirl

      Upon your toes

      For the time is near

     


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