Bee

Monday, September 29, 2008

Stanley Kunitz - The Layers

Stanley Kunitz - The Layers

I have walked through many lives,
some of them my own,
and I am not who I was,
though some principle of being
abides, from which I struggle
not to stray.
When I look behind,
as I am compelled to look
before I can gather strength
to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned camp-sites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings.
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections,
and my tribe is scattered!
How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
In a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the way,
bitterly stings my face.
Yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat,
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go,
and every stone on the road
precious to me.
In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
"Live in the layers,
not on the litter."
Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
I am not done with my changes.

Empty Pocket Deep -R.D. McManes




Saturday, September 20, 2008

A Dream of Trees



 
 There is a thing in me that dreamed of trees, 
A quiet house, some green and modest acres
A little way from every troubling town, 
A little way from factories, schools, laments.
I would have time, I thought, and time to spare, 
With only streams and birds for company.
To build out of my life a few wild stanzas.
And then it came to me, that so was death, 
A little way away from everywhere.

There is a thing in me still dreams of trees, 
But let it go. Homesick for moderation, 
Half the world’s artists shrink or fall away.
If any find solution, let him tell it.
Meanwhile I bend my heart toward lamentation
Where, as the times implore our true involvement, 
The blades of every crisis point the way.

I would it were not so, but so it is.
Who ever made music of a mild day? 

Mary Oliver
 

Monday, September 1, 2008

O Soldier Won't You Marry Me

O Soldier Won't You Marry Me

Line
Melody - Line

O soldier, soldier, won't you marry me
With your musket fife and drum?
O no sweet maid I cannot marry you
For I have no coat to put on.
So up she went to her grandfather's chest
And she got him a coat of the very, very best
And the soldier put it on.

2. O soldier, soldier, won't you marry me
With your musket fife and drum?
O no sweet maid I cannot marry you
For I have no hat to put on.
So up she went to her grandfather's chest
And she got him a hat of the very, very best
And the soldier put it on.

3. O soldier, soldier, won't you marry me
With your musket fife and drum?
O no sweet maid I cannot marry you
For I have no gloves to put on.
So up she went to her grandfather's chest
And she got him a pair of the very, very best
And the soldier put them on.

4. O soldier, soldier, won't you marry me
With your musket fife and drum?
O no sweet maid I cannot marry you
For I have no boots to put on.
So up she went to her grandfather's chest
And she got him a pair of the very, very best
And the soldier put them on.

O soldier, soldier, won't you marry me
With your musket fife and drum?
O no sweet maid I cannot marry you
For I have for I have a wife of my own.