And I saw Socrates
In the chairs at camp,
Listening to Demosthenes.
But it was all a dream,
One of the rippling changes
Going down the stream.
I saw visions of flowers
And psychedelic skies
When I heard the music
In my eyes.
There were visions
Of the past,
And I saw the girls
I never asked.
I sat,
As if in a trance,
Unlimited
By age, or circumstance.
I was everywhere,
And everything-
I knew greats,
And I knew kings-
And I saw her
Once again.
I saw soft twilights
And flares in the dark;
I saw the Fourth of July
Lighting Central Park;
I saw my dreams made real,
And you felt
All the things I feel.
But it was all a dream,
All a dream,
One of the rippling changes
Going down the stream.
***
Things always pass,
Fade away;
They leave and come,
But never stay,
Frustrating all efforts
To hold on to a past
That is already gone.
We are ever in the modern,
Latter time,
Continuing in our present.
The things we loved
And the things we hated alike
Stay where they were left,
Passing
Into a farther
And blurred
Former day.
***
Everywhere specters of now;
Everywhere, shadows of the past.
They shine and reflect
Outlines of me,
Leaving impressions
Of dreamy nostalgia,
And sleepy sentimentality.
The ebb of images
Is soft,
Like the waters in the pool
Before a gentle breeze.
I float,
And dream dreams
As I look at the peaceful pool
In a tranquil world.
Glinting white lights
By the water-
Exotic,
And brilliant
Light blue.
It breathes the sky
And holds the air,
And all that is best
In this universe
Is liquid there.
Pleasantly cool,
I feel it slide,
Comforting,
Holding me.
I look to the road
Leaving the drive,
By the garage
By the house
By the pool-
Stretching away from here,
To all every other somewhere
On the continent.
Black asphalt
Stretches away
Into a sky afar,
Mountain-edged.
And a little fire dances
At the edge
Of the penumbra sky;
Marking a lamppost
Outside a bar,
Up, a mile high.
I look out,
And see where I could go,
But I’m halfway to destiny
And stuck in memory
Of bobbing waves
And drinking seas,
Of salty smells,
And sandy lees.
The ocean will wait,
For the end of Reverie.
***
I transcend thought
To idealism unreachable, unattainable-
To the sky above, cloud swept,
Without exploitable worth on its own.
One man alone can do naught
To leap amidst it-
Impossible.
All the tears that were wept,
All the songs
That were taken from open mouths-
They’re gone from eye
And cheek and mouth and breath.
The sky can never be held
In the palm of your hand,
Like a little globe
Of white and water.
I cannot touch
What I feel,
And I cannot steal or keep
This morn-
And yet…
***
The morning sun
From o’er the trees twinkled
In sparkling fragments,
Cast from afar,
From the fiery star
Beyond the curve of the earth,
And the branches of the trees.
And now,
It reaches me in the water,
Flickering and searing white,
And it breaks apart,
On and in my eye.
It shimmers off the waters
Of more than seven seas,
Gilding land,
And ever greeting
A people's dawn,
As it kisses another ‘good night’
Softly, somewhere
Whispering
On the earth’s other side,
Smiling down,
On all the planets...
***
And felt the sun,
And the morn was good,
As the dreams run.
I examined the world,
And it examined me.
The sky could be seen
In an azure light blue,
Deep and mysterious,
With depths unknown,
Unfathomed by the curious,
With glory yet undimmed.
And the eye of the earth
Examined the clouds,
A powdery white
That seemed in danger
Of fading.
***
Have you ever wondered,
If you have ever seen,
All the spaces in the places,
And in-between?
There is a great deal of emptiness
Between the parts,
And the whole is never filled.
Have you ever seen the sky
So blue,
As it was before the gray?
You look up,
And what do you do?
You feel the distance,
You feel the here and there,
And all the hunger
In every breath of air.
We are all looking for
Our secret thing,
We are all seeking
A universal string.
We want it all tied up
And wrapped in a bow;
We want Gordian knots
And forget-me-nots
That won’t let us go.
We want to press the world to our chests
Before another part drifts away-
We want to understand
For it helps us bear
The hollowness
That won’t go away.
Have you ever wondered
At the cracks that we fall through?
They’re further from the sky,
And a different kind of blue.
***
And never, never know.
We try so hard
To understand;
We question the questions
That life demands;
We look everywhere,
And yet,
We never, never know.
We move around
When we are dissatisfied,
But are too comfortable
With discomfort
To get off the ride.
With restrictions,
And without convictions,
We never take life for enough
To gain a truth to show.
I am lost, I feel as lost
As anyone else,
But I suppose that this is where
We each must start-
Admitting we do not know,
But still hoping
For an inkling that is true.
For an inkling that is true.
***
We are people,
Going off on our own;
But no matter our freedom,
We miss someone,
And miss the feeling of comfort
In our own skin, our own home.
We look everywhere,
And search for a happier life,
A steadier perch.
But we always end up alone,
Looking again-
Scratching at an itch
We cannot scratch enough.
***
We move far
And far apart
And far away,
Yet we never seem to find
The things that stay.
The distance we travel
With the coin we pay,
Erodes behind our feet;
We were here
A decade before,
And here we are,
On the same old shore.
Emerson said
There is no progress,
And everything is like a wave,
Falling back into the waters.
I sometimes wish it wasn’t so,
But my life doffs acts
Like my hand doffs my head’s cap-
And the old acts submerge again,
Even as I put on my hat.
And in that submergence-
In knowing a lack,
But feeling a presence-
I try to tell you
How I wish to retrace,
To find where I went wrong,
And yet do not know
Where to go back.
***
This sunset in June
Has the color of a prune.
Sweet and soft,
Descending soon,
To spread from aloft to ground
With merging melancholy,
Growing without slowing,
To melt, into a moon-filled
Darkness.
At times it is enough,
Enough for the day,
Enough for now;
Let it pass,
And fade away.
At the eve of night,
When softness is all right,
When hardness is done,
When the race is run,
Time for sleep;
My heart to keep.
A drowsy goodbye
Until the morn,
A slumber worn softly,
Softly, into the tender
Of the night,
Where hours
Are shapeless delight.
A look in your face,
Your eyes as quiet as the sheets,
Your eyes as quiet as the sheets,
And the glass of milk
Below the caressing sky.
A last glace
At the last day
Before this moment ends,
And passes away,
That my eyes may close
To the ends of dreams.
A soft light
Allows a dot
To move in the dark;
A mind empty,
The hard is done,
Seeing no mark.
At times, it is enough,
Enough for the day,
Enough for now.
Let it pass,
And fade away.
***
The rising moon
Seemed to examine my eye,
As I looked up from the pillow
In its soft, white light.
The sky blushed
And looked at me,
Stern anew,
With a cold reflected light,
Given by a star unseen
As the sky went dark,
To the edges of the seen world,
Into night.
As high as the peaks of the Universe far,
Deeper than seemingly futilely burning beacons,
Among the firmament, pinpricks bright,
Little lit by their efforts here,
Though known to human sight;
Giving light to other horizons,
Granting foreign dawns,
Untouched by discovered life;
Not in need of our creations or caresses,
As they are, just right.
***
I shut my eyes
And let sighs
Become my world.
Until, restless again,
I found that I wished to get up.
So I slept under the stars,
Afar from the sea-
Life dances in the mountains,
And at the drowsy
Periphery.
I see afar,
Below the falling sky,
The torching lamp
Shining on,
Still bright,
Still merry.
And I smile
Below the velvet sky,
Drinking in the streams
Of all these dreams,
And the reality that is present, now.
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