Poetry

 

Poetry at least in modern times seems to have become the most inaccessible and emotionally remote of the arts. Compare the general tenor of a poetry reading to the wild bacchanalia of a rock concert. I'm one of those strange people who like them both. I've always been interested in poetry; by a fairly early age I had read most of the famous poems in English. Later, when I learned German, and a little French and Spanish, I read Goethe, Rilke, Baudelaire, and Lorca in their native languages-a great experience, as poetry is inherently untranslatable. And, from time to time I do one of my own. Below is a small sample of poems I have written in the last quarter of a century or so.

 

The Day After

The fog came into the old graveyard

Stuck in a used car lot, a barque of stone

The Dragon's Eye

I have heard soundless silence, death-devised

The full moon on the yellow grass

You are sad in the yellow light

The aviaries of night close down the eyes

Ann

 

 

 

 

 

The Day After

 

She was a gray believer; now her lips

Are fraught with atomic fire; eye sockets attest

The luminous waning of light bursts; bones are melted

Souvenirs of the staccato coming of atomic dawn.

 

Her shoulders art of the nuclear reprise; muscles toned

With gamma violence; her tongue hard

In a neutron hail. Brain burned with a late awareness

And sensuous acceptance of atomic flowers.

Hear, where her legs thrash in the slow staccato of atomic going

And her mind released in the starred hail of the morning sky

 

It was a blackened wing that fell that day

It was the earth excelling in selected suns

That recalled us to blood from the sky

And the oracular acceptance of that dawn.

 

 

 

The fog came into the old graveyard

 

The fog came into the old graveyard

Orion lay in the southeast

There were nebulae in Tomales

A woman standing by a dark gate

 

Open graves and flowers; star traverses

And beginning suns; there were latent openings

Where a girl lay by a chrysanthemum.

 

The beams slant in yellow light; her eyes

Follow vaulting suns; breasts grow to arms

In darkness. Her face open and surprise

Walks by the old graves; bones sag in wet earth.

 

The mind birthing in a yellow room;

Beds becomes eaten beams; the music

Must cease before Cynthia assumes the third position.

Yellow flowers part the mind in latent thirds.

 

Outside: water, wind, and wet grass.

Her face asks: Is this the real scream?

The bed is yellow as the music was

Her throat pulses with Protozoic suns.

 

The waves rush on Dillon beach;

Ghosts come from Tomales graves:

"Julia: God rest her soul, my good wife of thirty years."

Dead fish turn their glazed eyes to the shifting fog.

 

Yellow lights in a white room:

Her body lithe on a red blanket

From the south, a flash; her eyes asking

The mind is a cucumber, thinly sliced.

 

The gate is hard to open; it pours rain.

In the garden, in the darkness, there is fog;

Under the steps the neighborhood cat coughs;

A polite cough, imploring wet roses under white stars.

 

Her body a torus of imploding suns;

Her eyes green stalks with yellow gates;

She asks: Where is the surface of No Time

And would you fill the dipper with water and stars?

 

Stuck in a used-car lot: a barque of stone

 

Stuck in a used-car lot: a barque of stone

In neon tights astride a Mustang

What philosophic beau geste is buried in old tires

And smelly tidal flats where crows pick over

The vomited bodies of sea gulls. Alarm clocks

Go off and millions rise,

Wearily to eat their morning fecal matter

In the acacias mockingbirds

Haunt the sound of diesel trucks

 

Under the airport corridor, by ceaseless boxes

Filled with mothering tubes and Mr. Clean

A sound of infinity, of man rumbling

Toward a far-off alarm clock,

Punched in Algiers, oracular lunches in Times Square,

Monoxide for desert. Hear the space ship

Hunting between stars for the mind's track

The eye of Iapetus enshrined in formaldehyde

A dark truck hurtling the cosmos. Time wells

 

Backward on Aldebaran, up the faint wisp

Between quasar and galaxy; unheralded as heron wings

In Orion. Who (gray entwiner of the infinite, mathematician of drugs)

Interposed exeunter of black dwarfs and the mind's failure

At space's edge where the dust thins

And no mourning for the soul lost in a quantum jump

He didn't come out boys; no matter, wings.

 

 

The Dragon's Eye

 

Your eyes dark; above, the rock

Transcending water.

 

Stone above stone; the sun's foil

Scintillae in your eyes; the dark

Below an exit of the wind;

Your mind a starwheel of imploding dones; what day

Rises in dark rock; a hawk's wing falls

Before the iris; light pools like ibises of eyes.

 

In the day, past numinous water, the hills curved;

Time riding your arced silence, the dragon's tears.

A hunger for flight, for the sun's rush and the flawed wing

Poised in the hill's flow; downward to dark rock

In the dragon's eye.

 

Far off, the sun goes; hillward, hawks;

There are pools in stone.

Where the water and rock wait, silence. Your tears

Flow inward to the dragon's eye.

 

In what adytum your crouched terror; where, in the prescient dusk

Your dark eyes crying at the wind's edge;

Night, stars. There, no flight and no great soar

Where hawk's wings were. You waited,

Your mind a beat of the hill; your body curved

In the vortex of the dragon's eye.

 

 

 

The full moon on the yellow grass

 

The full moon on the yellow grass

A cat in the window; frogs; frost.

The fog covers the stars; Orion is in the East.

Near dawn the moon comes through upon her hair.

 

 

 

I have heard soundless silence, death-devised

 

I have heard soundless silence, death-devised:

The mind spun outward, love's illume:

Your face, chameleon-like, attack the sun:

You are a mimicry of the rock's song:

A motionless music lost in falling stars

And whether I hear the bird of time lose wing

Above bounding water, and death-enclosed, then fall

Upward, sunward till your magic moves

Arcuate laughter and all running worlds

To fall past silence into your smiling eyes:

Or whether, centaur-like, your mind excels

In duality unhinged, earth and stars:

Into the crossed silences of deaths and suns:

 

Whether our love's by life or death begun

We must be less than two, but more than one.

 

 

You are sad in the yellow light

 

You are sad in the yellow light

Your hurt shows in the quiet room

On the slanting roof the rain is falling

It is cold in the trees by the window.

 

You move in the shadowed light: gray leaves.

You ask whether it rains: moths, moving.

This month the winter comes;

The ground is wet, and the grass: a quiet sorrow.

 

The light rises on your face

Your mouth asks for something

Your body clings to the golden shade

The room is empty beyond the mirror.

 

 

 

The aviaries of night close down the eyes

 

The aviaries of night close down the eyes

Articulate epicures of the invisible

A strange dish ensconced of infinity

Magical hawks diving into the mind

Their egregious claws hammer home

Desolation, ennui, decayed designs while over

The poised hill they go pointilliste

Tail-first into eternity. The mind renders

Inviolate the gray walls of silence; trees are outlined

Upon stars; a sharp shiver comes from uphill

And the night walks still heralded

All acts cease when the stars fall.

 

We wait here where the world ends;

Westward the track of the dolphins tears

The upthrust waves; concinnity and the uninterrupted flow

Of the mind circling nothing; terror is down there, where the bottom goes.

Opalescent overtures of silence;

Hawks of the torn sunset of Los Angeles

Return in an asphalt presentiment

Of supermarkets eating freeways.

On the beach by the millions

Rubber condoms and blind kids

Pussed people devouring dead birds

Their passion arrayed on the sands

 

We are birds of the night; no askers

Of infinite, no seekers of stars; we run

On a far road, quickened by the hunt;

And do not feel the asphalt flashing past.

 

It is a sun in a center, explosions wheeled

At the mind's edge; the nerves raced before starting;

We see worlds flash endlessly, a married quarrel

Of chaos and order, welded by chemicals and a full moon.

 

The mind dances in a gray room: a red star imploding;

The eye sees endlessness in a webbed corner;

A piece of infinite explored and catalogued;

The dirty sheets lie artfully in the morning sun.

 

 

 

Ann

 

The scimitars of dusk

The scattered curvature of broken and mute fire

Worlds, rising in rings; far off, suns, illumed

There were stars

And triangular musings on dead shores; wings

Aviaries of silence; attitudes; Augusts and trips

Insolence of eternity; eucalyptic wings.

And Ann, floating above the lawn, ecstatic to music

A flash of gold, light feet and wings.

Where

In the corridors of dark time shall worlds illume

Her silence

 

©1998, 1999 Samuel L. Greene

Sam Greene Home Page

[These web pages of Samuel L. Greene, Jr. (1931-2007), Professor of Physics and Astronomy at Sonoma State University, have been reconstructed by his colleague, JST. There were originally links to course pages and to larger images, but these have been lost.]