"Thou shalt be--Nothing."--Omar Khayyam.
"Tombless, with no remembrance."--W. Shakespeare.
Dead shalt thou lie; and nought
Be told of thee or thought,
For thou hast plucked not of the Muses' tree:
And even in Hades' halls
Amidst thy fellow-thralls
No friendly shade thy shade shall company!
Clothed in splendour, beautifully sad and silent,
Comes the autumn over the woods and highlands,
Golden, rose-red, full of divine remembrance,
Full of foreboding.
Soon the maples, soon will the glowing birches,
Stripped of all that summer and love had dowered them,
Dream, sad-limbed, beholding their pomp and treasure
Hatred and vengence—my eternal portion
Scarce can endure delay of execution—
Wait with impatient readiness to seize my
Soul in a moment.
Damned below Judas; more abhorred than he was,
Who for a few pence sold his holy Master!
Twice betrayed, Jesus me, the last delinquent,
Deems the profanest.
Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.
Whose heards with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
Some say thronging cavalry, some say foot soldiers,
others call a fleet the most beautiful of
sights the dark earth offers, but I say it's what-
ever you love best.
And it's easy to make this understood by
everyone, for she who surpassed all human
kind in beauty, Helen, abandoning her
husband--that best of
I am bewitched,
Fully fleshed in this space between us, my hands that yearn to reach for you hold on to the edges of my sweater instead.
We sit with our lungs, hearts, and souls spread open in the dim of the night.
fresh like spring and sensitive to the world outside the window,
Yet the only thing that crowds us is a funny warmth.
The kind that spreads to your toes and fingers
Cradles you in the early morning when the dew is settled on the grass
When the line between friends or more is blurred and yet it's too late or early to distinguish.
And our words are heavy yet smooth like tea running down a sore throat.
Change happens so fast
After all, it's only been a month
You're no longer the same girl
You're not the girl I loved
I can't bear to say your name
It's too hard to even speak
In so many different ways
you've made me feel so weak
Golden rose the house, in the portal I saw
thee, a marvel, carven in subtle stuff, a
portent. Life died down in the lamp and flickered,
caught at the wonder.
Crimson, frosty with dew, the roses bend where
thou afar, moving in the glamorous sun,
drinkst in life of earth, of the air, the tissue
golden about thee.
Never went man courageously to dangers
Fear and his constant spirit being strangers,
But, while he faced his enemies and hew'd them,
Soon he subdued them:
As he goes onward, perils seem to scatter,
Mind ever shows the conqueror of matter;
Even the mountain crags that toppled o'er him
Open before him;
All the night sleep came not upon my eyelids,
Shed not dew, nor shook nor unclosed a feather,
Yet with lips shut close and with eyes of iron
Stood and beheld me.
Then to me so lying awake a vision
Came without sleep over the seas and touched me,
Softly touched mine eyelids and lips; and I too,
Full of the vision,
Saw the white implacable Aphrodite,
Saw the hair unbound and the feet unsandalled