Friday, February 22, 2013

Three Poems


Sometimes a man stands up during supper
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:

I mean it’s not like my damned soul
and walks outdoors,
The soul that rises with us, our life’s star.

waved farewell with a lace hanky
and keeps on walking,
Trailing clouds of glory do we come

from the base of a bonsai plant
because of a church
From God, who is our home:

in a Tu Do Street floral shop
that stands somewhere in the East.
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!

while I dreamt too soundly
And his children
Shades of the prison-house begin to close

on Ba Muy Ba Beer and woke next morning
say blessings on him as if he were dead.
Upon the growing boy,

to discover
And another man,
But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,

I couldn’t cry anymore
who remains inside his own house,
He sees it in his joy;

or laugh like before
dies there,
The Youth, who daily further from the east

or give a shit period-
inside the dishes and in the glasses,
Must travel, still is nature’s priest,

No.
so that his children
And by the vision splendid

My soul just did
have to go far out into the world
Is on his way attended;

what most souls did.
Toward that same church
At length the man perceives it die away,

Just disappeared one afternoon
which he forgot.
And fade into the light of common day.

When I was in a firefight.

Selected lines from poems by Wordsworth, Mason, and Rilke

12 comments:

  1. How beautifully you have connected the dots here, Bama!! This makes for a truly awesome, memorable work. How perfectly it tugs on the heartstrings, and knits together all the senses in a wondrous act of remembering, of learning, of growing. Outstanding effort, my lovely friend!! I am so in awe of you!!

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    1. Jo,
      Words from a great poet, great person, and fantastic friend are never to be ignored, and I do not.
      Thank you,
      Bert

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  2. This is breathtaking. One experiences it as much as reading it. Four incredible men come together.

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  3. A coming together of great poets, Christina, and perhaps a clash...It's truly intriguing. Each one has kept his voice in spite of the cuts and Bert has acted as an orchestra conductor. I'm not quite sure how to take it, this is something entirely new (at least for me). I've never come across something like this before, thanks Bert, for the unique experience!

    And Bert, btw, I love your new site, looks neat and of course it's a fascinating subject for a blog, an endless subject really...

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    1. Thanks Claude,
      I've always loved Blogger - I think I'll spend more time here.
      Bert

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  4. You are a far better man than I am, Gunga Din, to have started such a project, completed such a project, and made it, in the end, such a brilliant project. Each line has its own verbal impact, and when connected they crawl deep inside your soul and decide to reside there for a while.

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    1. Caleb,
      Thanks for the wonderful comment, even though it isn't totally true. It will be one of those proverbial cold days when I'm a better man than you...
      Yours to count on,
      Bert

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