In the City of Art
Selected Poems
By
J. Berchman Bernard Stewart
Copyright 2013 J. Berchman Bernard Stewart
Proofreading and additional formatting by Joey Abisso
“In the City of Art the King is a beggar’’
Table of Contents
The Halcyon Hours
The Early Rose
Weigh This Heart
In the City of Art
Throne of Granite
War’s Gold Ring Of Terrible Wisdom Gained
Lamentation
On the Qualities of Mercy I Beg to Differ
Nor’easter
That Thieving Christmas Souse Mouse
Flash Flood
Seraphs In Attics Descend
Hearts On Panes
Night’s blizzard seen when the blinds are raised in the morning
Unbecoming
Footfalls
Spring's Rummy Bum Bees
A Snowman’s Days Are Thine
Passin’ Thru
Storm In The Desert
First
Divorce
Platinum Texas Oil Princess
Sundials Riding Time’s Glacier
The Ski Lift to Paradise
Chance Meeting Among Roses
Long Gray March of Remembrance
The Dance At The Lake
On The Fourth
Chumps
First love
The Princess Salome Surrenders Her Jerusalem to Alexander the Great
The Halcyon Hours
Could be stayed, the Female Halcyon Hours
Where lie lithe willow limbs’ luring powers
Go stay the verdant eve of Peach and Cream
Seize its long languid dusk’s slant amber beams
Make wait the green-eyed sea’s departing tide
Bind it lapping the blonde strand’s sand long wide
Tower of Ivory, House of Gold stay
The Satin Alabaster Altar fades
The Early Rose
With turned up collar I’ll go stroll
that worn grass trail so windy cold,
which wends past graves where faded pale,
tattered frail Christmas ribbons flail.
Chill bare branches will drip snowmelt,
gaunt gray woods and fields still wet.
Trembles not yet a foal or fawn
shaky, weak, up from dew damp lawn.
Yet, if seen on the graveyard’s wall
that early burning ruby rose,
blooming there in the late snowfall,
I’ll touch its velvet to my nose,
and know then that I’ve been given
one more Spring here... to live again.
WEIGH THIS HEART
NOW COME AND WEIGH THIS HEART
BUT FOR A FAIR MEASURE
PLEASE LEAVE LOVE’S SMALL TREASURE
WHAT IRON SET APART
THEN PLACE IT ON TIME’S SHELF
NEXT TO THAT FRAGILE DUST
YET MIND LEST TOUCH THE DUST
THAT DUST WAS I MYSELF
In the City of Art
Thy brush I claim harem
Uncover yours mine arm
and up now hence depart
unto the City of Art.
Roar there my glorious power
subsumed within a sunflower.
Hurl stooped my meek Son,
reaping, his poor among.
Jerusalem’s deaf ears
my Prophets killed.
My Prophet Vincent here,
in Art, deaf eyes will.
THRONE OF
GRANITE
Time rules from Granite thrones
Arrayed in this thrown down
Crisp snowy Seraph’s gown
Gray Headstones for his crown
His treasure trove Leaves brown
High praise the bare limbs moan
All in time King Time owns
The Lord of all the sown
War’s Gold Ring Of
Terrible Wisdom Gained
Eternal, for all, awaits this carousel.
Frozen pose its wild steeds bejeweled.
In mirrors bright bulbs dizzy spin
as bubbles in champagne do swim.
The steam pipe organ cracks its cheeks.
A hundred trumpets blow, drums beat.
Ominous the widow waltz it hums.
Brave young come, strapped laughing on,
no escape allowed them. What fun!
The orbit goes slowly round then
faster rotates to another one.
Shriek screaming forth, returning fly.
Desire for this irony makes us buy.
Age to age we pay much to ride, till
it stops, and those few left will.
all off crawl, so ill.
Gleaming, ready the ride patient waits.
For tender warriors endless it’s appetite
Happy to instruct arrogant generations
in life’s tragic, ghastly riding lesson.
Dismount fools drenched in hell’s pain,
War’s gold ring of terrible wisdom gained.
Lamentation
Heads bared, stunned, orate can none.
Silent encircle, enter only honor in.
Let no stain of pretense come
near this fallen’s true devotion.
Ohh! I have lived too long,
to see buried this young friend.
Earth covets us these finest,
must slake its envious thirst
and drinks so soon our very best,
just helmet, boots, medals leaves,
so little left on which to grieve.
Bright eyes gone lifeless close.
Now slips away a noble soul
to up fly in the heavens starry.
Come… swift, reach up just then
to last touch much loved friend.
One so faithful could never fail
and will command a moment tarry,
thus, for seconds precious will
tower o'er all and last salute flail,
present and accounted for... still.
On the qualities of
Mercy I beg to differ
Mercy is not like rain at all,
It does not fall,
it floats, drifts thither,
a speck of a feather.
Yet, like rain too, whither
mercy comes and goes,
you can never really know.
Today it’s a nun… next
A drunken bum
you least expect
his paper bag pint shares
cigarettes from the homeless hag?
Un-believable-
You know, I’m almost glad
I’m down in this sad pit.
That small kind touch,
there is so much of it.
I might have missed all this.
Mercy abounds anointing all
In this awful place
filled with the fallen or disgraced.
Wondrous little deeds so generous,
not forced or feigned, plain goodness
circulates, kind, patient
Rain falls, but mercy forth pours.
Have Give Drink Take
Your face upraise
Drown eyes, lips, with its drops.
Oh, one more thing… rain stops.
Mercy never stops.
Forever slakes this thirst… So sweet to taste
Meditation on the virtue patience
NOR’ EASTER
In winter storms I sometimes walk
our lane of frozen mud
&
nbsp; which just last autumn past was muck
that tires sculpted into ruts
Once while I went my way
by fence of pale gray rails
I came upon a mare
crusted in pearls of hail
standing with vacant stare
mute and numb, endured
the tempest’s tortures
seeming not to mind or care
Oh… would I were that mare
could that serene take hurled
world’s misery on me inculcate,
thus merit her veil of patient pearls
when flail not ‘gainst sad snowy fate
That patient mare she knows
To gain the virtue patience pearls
You need not ‘neath seas go at all
You need not go down out the gate
With sail of patience unfurled wait
Nor’easter’s misery will fly to thee
T’will fair thee pearly all o’er with sea
“That Thieving
Christmas Souse Mouse"
Ah! Christmas Eve…‘tis great!
All the ho hum holiday
about the master’s house
I {saucy lout} doth lay
and 'pon my fur luxuriate
while pait’ly wait
till late lights douse.
Thence boldened by belly
to sweetmeat thief intent,
I do thence genrelly
feats o' larder larceny commence
Shh! So hoho scairry!! Hear!
That chewme cat mews… Near?
Ai Yi Yikes! Crikey!
Dat cat’s teeths spikey.
Yet, feary that cat so
scary, wary I still will go.
Pelt hairy raised I’ll race…!!
Haymake, waylay, and dreyaway
much Mickelmouse cake.
Silky Slinks m'slinks
The masters spilled drink,
carousing, m' drinks.
Then, woozy eyes fogged
by boozy drops egg nogged,
wild mincy capers m’ capes.
Sigh, I moust confess!
Drunk as a skunk...yessss,
I should desist?...desist?
Tell me, could you resist
such Candlemas largesse?
Cock crows the morn!
Drat!!..So soon the Dawn?
Now swagbag drag content
I give way ta mum n' gent.
Yes this rummy must repent.
Hence someday sway to S. A.
{That’s Souse Anonamouse}
But, faith, I pray no way,
till wake on New Year’s day.
FLASH FLOOD
Too many a poke heard late
a storm’s thunder rumble,
hence missed a flashoff's roar.
Thence I 'spect met his fate
splashin' through heaven's door
mount an' all there drenched
soakin' wet up against
too early … that pearly gate.
Seraphs In Attics Descend
On the frost-laced porch I smoked
a Christmas cigar with no coat,
my hands shaking ‘round a hot bulb,
shivering from the cold’s assault.
Snowmen with fixed accusing stares
guard the children’s snow angels flared.
Then open doors send gold light thrown
on diamond piles of moonlit snow.
These faithful ranks of bright porch lights
defy this darkest winter night.
High soft winds stir gray bare limbs and,
again, attic’s Seraphs descend.
Hearts On Panes
On cold gray days our
fingers drew hearts on
rainy, steamy panes.
Those misty hearts would fade,
but with our breath blown there,
hearts lost appeared again.
Sometimes those panes would break,
then taking some small pains,
broken panes whole we’d make.
Yet, when our hearts are broken,
words in cold air spoken
are just useless clouds spurned.
Never lost hearts return.
Never come back again…
Night’s blizzard
seen when the blinds
are raised in the morning
Deep white’s advance.
Swift winds whirled twirled
drifts hurled to swirled
steep inclined slants.
Unbecoming
Tentative the panther steps
Motionless the python flicks
Parrot green canopy smolders
Carved stone blocks molder,
“Panther, whence gone these Maya?
Why and wherefore pray?”
Panther, parrot, python say:
“Maya out of Maya take
Maybe thousand hearts a day.
Crazy blood soaked selves negate.
Hence the Maya away went …
Panther, parrot, python stay.”
FOOTFALLS
These Christmas ribbons they
on graves gaily hailing
forlorn pale fade sure
when the faithful step
to life away swept
hence fail come manicure
or death silence all
save gardener’s footfall
Spring's Rummy Bum Bees
Vaults Spring sun a buttery bright yellow
in baby blue sky hurled high o’er all.
Glisten candy petals red burning ruby.
Blossom jewels wet lacquer drool honeys.
Venus desires wild wanton riot,
Wills her flowers all intoxicate
Mad distilling, spilling perfumes enthrall.
See! bees so tipsy stupor woozy
they sideways drift boozy drowsy.
Ah! The Squire Bumble comes to call,
fumbles backwards, stumbles, stalls.
Feigns nectar's chambers enter, halts, tease,
tickle lickle... Pause... Sudden flees?
Left bereft flowers much displeased
Cry "Oh! That fickle drunk bee bum.
That does it! We are done with him.
What a miserable little rummy.
Run off again with his puffed up
hussy Miss Prissy Breeze Puff."
“A Snowman’s Days Are Thine”
In July’s grass I spied
a tuft of colors frayed.
Up I pulled an old lost cap;
a memory it conveyed.
This was the long-lost hat
of the first snowman that
merry here we rendered.
His glory descended
till hung from a slush stump,
sad carrot, hat, coal lumps,
That’s when so young we learn
Time’s our enemy stern
We, too, have snowman’s days.
It seems of snow we’re made.
Bequeathed cruel Earth will leave
hat, scarf, upon to grieve.
With a sadness that never ends
I see those snowman friends
Out lacey windows they exist.
In winter’s reverie persist.
In Memory’s misty pane see
there my small face with joy wintry,
and pain when my first snowman thence
melted the bliss of innocence.
Passin’ Thru
Reined up, stopped to smoke.
Match on my beard scratch.
The fat cloud's shadows black
quilt the vast valley patched.
Passin’ thru Horse n'me,
Goin' into history
nobody here what cares,
'cept bossy rattler there.
Easy now hor
se you hear?
Don't fret rear up all scared
Rattler jus' havin' fun,
Drinkin’ too much lucky sun.
His noisemaker he displays.
Ceaseless wild shakes
starts rattlin' thataway
Boozy disgraced snake.
Use any ol' 'scuse to drink
Every ding-dong day
New Years’ Eve celebrates.
So he says… So him thinks!
Storm In The Desert
Horse n' I spy on out
half a day ride about,
traipsin’ comin’ sideways,
ol' stumble bum storm gray.
Been drinkin' all day, now
him shoutin’ an spoutin’,
kickin’ up wraithy drapes
of misty, rainy spray.
He's muttrin' and rumblin'
Somethin' he's there grumblin!
Go' on let fly those tears,
Just us nobodies here.
Your secret's safe with me
You raging gray King Lear.
First
Is not that first drop of rain
rain enough to say ‘sweet it rained?’
More drops of rain be but “more rain this”
yet n’er sweeter e’er the first drop's kiss.
Homage au E.A. Poe
Divorce
We ghosts hold fast here...You ask why?
On love's remains we sobbing lie
Would stop dead love to tomb bring.
Around love's cold neck our arms cling.
Love's catafalque we hover near.
We struggle at love’s bier to bide.
Having no place to be left here,
in empty lonely houses hide.
And when the light gloaming gray fades,
there on chairs we wraiths silent wait.
Stone-Statue still, death-masked just sit,
crying all through the night's black wake.
Bruised purple will break the day.
Knocks the relentless, heartless Sun,
Morn’s pale pallbearer mists then come,
again Love they’ll convey away.
Perchance you meet we ghosts, don’t fear.
In the City of Art Page 1
