deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Vaulted Heart
Spareth me
spareth me O ye
O ye angel's of Bacchus
Spareth me your airy spirits
Spareth me your Chiantis and amours,
i wish to sleep this night
with beer and blood on the breath
with words like sour mash in the mouth
like rye whiskey, raging, dug up swinging
from the graduate dirt of the earth.
beneath the sill, the prologue falls and still
your eyes remain
a dialogue of silent midnight swaying
amongst the gaslight gallows of the hours,
subtly to each occurrence, to concentrate the substance
lithographic and magnificent
and to slide, something like Chaplin in disguise,
smoothly and in well requited turns
around the corners and the curves
of my heart, where the paraph caresses
soft flesh in starshot gloom
where upon the outstretched arms of mother moon went I
headwise down the flourish of a dream
til the blood at last blew itself apart.
Hours and days spent in fitful stammering
within the humdrum and buzzbuzz
of the frenzied music of the streets below.
streets of steel cold, streets of coal,
streets of fire and foam, streets
that seethe as one and pour like smoke
from the cranky Victrola in my palm.
forgive if you might these movements
and let us turn wayward, careless as ever,
well away from these haunted embassies on their distant hills
& let us find a poetry to better fit this unsubtle age,
simultaneous to all the senses, and hurried
to fit in an instant.
perhaps we can with guile enough,
sow the blood of the young with
the blood of the old & perhaps we can
walk together down the solemn road once more
perhaps we can place a bid
with certain chance and circumstance...
& splash
into the dragnet of this
epithalamion organ grinder fist,
grinding this and grinding that
O gruesome gallantry in galleries afar!
feed me if you please, something less in step/
sleaze and song and words like dirt
a pace and sound so dense,
like punk fucking jazz in a heroin haze, perhaps
a noise like manic blues in blue smoke-filled panic rooms
ricochet'd ricochet'd around the brain
& screamed aerial & arterial
thru endlessly repeating computer screens
screens which seem to stream
a multitude of magazines
perhaps in memoriam to some small yesterday
but more sterile
and purple mild. bland.
...
O Brother, do remember
these few pure moments we have together
in which to gather our meager spires of shattered fire
and peer overland, in genuine pardon,
thru the cracks in this old fallout shelter underground
where slant moonlight yet twists
her yellow-hair'd warmth atop the coverlets
and sails my heart in delightful pirouettes
comforting and ecstatic just so
as if stirred by the light of receding echoes remembered,
yet indecipherable still as this heft of heart is
which i have been dragging like some hundred dead legs
across an empty desert alone
these forty thousand fortnights and more
like so much a tiny, domesticated Charlemagne.
Although i feel in the drums divine
that the drums die but are not dead, even as i
pull into port behind, (a thousand years behind and forever more)
ceaseless petitioners spilling thru
filling this dank sleepy hollow of sorts,
only to find the scraps of some great party
that we where too late in finding - and the host, already quits,
long since turned in for the night
and found headless in his bed.
...
In the bay to left, i watch the ships at play
and conspire quietly with the picture frame
in much melancholy always,
to the mysteries that remain
beyond grasp or touch or else
decidedly dour and disappointing, alas,
typical to, a hanging at a birthday party
wherein these herky-jerky amazements of thy body, love,
come to mean less and nothing to me,
simply being an erstwhile transference
simply put,
a little piece of dying for the sake thereof.
not unlike, say, Lucifer glimpsedt in starlight,
azure blank and yet... blinding.
...
Dear Sweet Toivo,
let us pause a moment
to enjoy the quiet,
the near-to-silent pitter patter small footsteps of rain upon rooftop;
the distant hum and throb of streetlamps
hanging their hats above the minutia of morning
- let us take this chance to altogether shake off
the hangovers of evening.
i, in a few moments hence must return
to break the body and spirit upon the grinding wheel of industry
and so it goes and so it goes.
Nay, let us instead recall, Listener Dear, the time better spent
across the shoulders of beauty, spent
conscious of the splendor about
as apposed to
the ever-present fail to commit.
Oh recall, fair friends,
how we once raced the horizontal wind
with no particular haste or plans
until at last we came to rest in pliant hands
that held us fast and made amends.
& Remember! Remember then!
those days we carved with Roman numerals, our very names
big bright and boorish pink
into the crumbling walls of Jericho
and licked
the sugar sweet summer sweat
from off eachother's skin
and found (the forth of fifth time around..)
found a song to match the shouts
of "Bolero! Bolero!"
& recall how
Our young brazen bodies leapt,
LEAPT!
from cloud
to cloud,
to cloud
to turf
and skittered across the joyous surf
as our arms as one, emboldened, bulged and surged
and gorged upon the afterbirth.
...
Let the seasons dry and go grey with age
in deserted courtyards less than gay, less than complementary,
and definitely less sympathetic to our pain
here one may count the broken slates,
severed and disgorged
in the process of these damnable services to our painted lords
bubbles bursting, busted, my heart and all,
by monotonous excursions
--the smell of turpentine and ether bitter-foul,
seep and drain emotion from the soul
& I
would like just now to lie down
for some years
against the rings of Saturn -
and wake again the arms of Venus
- O but would that not be too close still?!
too close! too close!
to the caged girl that crows!
(hieroglyphically and slow!)
that beloved lonely bird perched atop the vaulted heart
and searching ever and evermore.
she of baby blue eyes bright and fatalistic
in all deliverance to my dysfunction
fatally beautiful and trusting
blinking out a beatitude of rhythms
upon my extensive catalog of discontent
-- - and the drums jump'dt up Sir!
Yes Yes to tell Sir!
what the blood might yet conceal
in starfalls of dreams not yet revealed
and it was inside these vaults i gathered O
gathered all that my arms could hold
and returned with a flashing gaze & nod upon
the smirking guise of time
and hoped for a moment
that somewhere
you do too
Published 16th Mar 2013
| Edited 5th Jul 2013
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Anonymous
16th Mar 2013 6:58pm
Such a fantastic written piece, leaves me only to re read it. I cant decide which is my fav part amongst many great lines. I like the contrast between the emotions.
Grand ode!
Grand ode!
18th Mar 2013 3:14pm
canno de'cide fav'parts either,willno 'play favorites'....
eye love th'sweep'o your torrents, like caught in a flashflood
or neardrowning in
riptide(that'll always bring ye back2beach ifn ye stay calm & be patient...)
bravissimo, calibanio!
eye love th'sweep'o your torrents, like caught in a flashflood
or neardrowning in
riptide(that'll always bring ye back2beach ifn ye stay calm & be patient...)
bravissimo, calibanio!
