RAGE.—
They could neither of ’em speak for rage; and so fell a sputtering at one
another like two roasting apples.
~ Congreve.—The Way of the World, Act II. Scene 8.
Such lines as almost crack the stage,
When Bajazet begins to rage.
~ Cowley.—Of Wit, Verse 7.
*
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
~ Dylan Thomas
*
Odd the way light
Explodes the doldrums of a summer
Day ~ intermezzo gilding spiky
Blade of herbage into well ~
Attended shows,
Optic entertainment. Or take
For breakfast, whipped cream plopped atop
Will blueberries,
From following
The fancy, the scattered clouds over ~
Head, overheard. Or maybe reconsider, precisely
What the acrobat said, between
You and me,
There’d be ample room to disagree.
A mourning glory’s fenestration,
Intricate as our quarrel’s
Tracery,
Today’s contention. Each brilliant
As quick sparkles ~ your earrings splashed
About ~ A diamond, a ruby circle. Only
Later, you find me
Thumbing through the dictionary,
Searching for a divination, my vain failings,
Fallings, back on the word, heavy
With memory,
An unstable atmosphere.
Our bed of violets alfresco aprons,
Sings, the last light foreshadowing,
Foreshortening,
A foggy-minded change of weather,
Doing her best to keep an imminent extinction
Something less than final.
Season’s interval,
A finial.
*
Method, or meander ~
“1. I’ll walk a turn, and digest what I have read.
2. You’ll grow devilish fat upon this paper diet.â€
~ Congreve.—Love for Love, Act I. Scene 1.
*
Odd the way light
Explodes the doldrums of a summer
Day ~ intermezzo gilding spiky
Blade of herbage into well ~
Attended shows,
Optic entertainment. Or take
For breakfast, whipped cream plopped atop
Will blueberries,
From following
The fancy, the scattered clouds over ~
Head, overheard. Or maybe reconsider, precisely
What the acrobat said, between
You and me,
There’d be ample room to disagree.
A mourning glory’s fenestration,
Intricate as our quarrel’s
Tracery,
Today’s contention. Each brilliant
As quick sparkles ~ your earrings splashed
About ~ A diamond, a ruby circle. Only
Later, you find me
Thumbing through the dictionary,
Searching for a divination, my vain failings,
Fallings, back on the word, heavy
With memory,
An unstable atmosphere.
Our bed of violets alfresco aprons,
Sings, the last light foreshadowing,
Foreshortening,
A foggy-minded change of weather,
Doing her best to keep an imminent extinction
Something less than final.
Season’s interval,
A finial.
*
QUESTIONABLE.—
"Thou com’st in such a questionable shape
That I will speak to thee."
~ Shakespeare.—Hamlet, Act I. Scene 4. (The Ghost Scene.)
QUIPS.—
"Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles."
~ Milton.—L’Allegro, Line 27.
*
QUOTING.—
"With just enough of learning to misquote."
~ Byron.—English Bards, Line 66.
*
....or choke,
Or yoke?
*
Crisply noted, then tucked away,
Stumbling headlong out the door ~
Loosing touch with sense, or habit, since
Thursday’s give and take of happenstance
Forks against the heart’s half-glimpse.
So much vertigo, reeling through
Our narrow path of pleasure ~
How dependent one becomes on an imagined
Kiss withheld, here alone, just me, my room,
My remedies done up
Upon a silver spoon. Such blindness
Sighted by my headstrong need to say ~
Stay! Trembling, insistent ambiguity
Collapsing on the surface, the page,
Turning to the wall to conceal myself.
In a calm, receding daze,
Half-crazed, a sudden gust of wind
Sweeps me back into our familiar maze.
Your painkiller’s bitter aftertaste
Leaves whispers on my lips
To say, torn between a tuning fork
And divining rod, what odds
The mind, the heart, turn inward for
Could cure. The body, a crying ache, straining
Through my task, undoes itself
Behind my masque ~ Sheer scrim, a splash
Of stars. Prodigal makeup, bare self-possession,
Crisply noted, then wished away.
*
LABOUR.—
"As we are born to work, so others
are born to watch over us while we are working."
~ Goldsmith.—Essay, Specimen of a Magazine; Article “Speech.â€
"Such hath it been—shall be—beneath the sun,
The many still must labour for the one!"
~ Byron.—The Corsair, Canto I. Stanza 8.
"I have had my labour for my travel."
~ Shakespeare.—Troilus and Cressida, Act I. Scene 1.
"We are pouring our words into a pierced cask:
we are losing our pains."
~ 1 Riley’s Plautus, Pseudolus, Act I. Scene 3. Page 274.
LABOUR.—
"Labour like this, our want supplies,
And they must stoop who mean to rise."
~ Cowper.—Satire IX.
"He caught the attention of both old and young.
—Labour stood still as he passed—the bucket hung
suspended in the middle of the well
—the spinning-wheel forgot its round—even chuckfarthing and shuffle-cap
themselves stood gaping till he had got out of sight."
~ Sterne.—Tristram Shandy, Chap. X.; George Combe, Doctor Syntax, Chap. V.
*
FOOD.—
“Take that; and He that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age.â€
~ Shakespeare.—As you Like it, Act II. Scene 3. (Adam to Orlando.)
KNOWLEDGE.—
“Just notions will into good actions grow,
And to our reason we our virtues owe;
False judgments are the unhappy source of ill,
And blinded error draws the passive will.
To know one God, and know ourselves, is all,
We can true happiness or wisdom call.â€
~ Reading.—Christian instructed. 3 Notes and Queries, 240.
“Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.â€
~ Daniel, Chap. XII. Verse 4.
“Beyond abstain
To ask; nor let thine own inventions hope
Things not reveal’d which the invisible King,
Only omniscient, hath suppress’d in night;—
Enough is left besides to search and know.
Knowledge is as food, and needs no less
Her temperance over appetite.â€
~ Milton.—Par. Lost, Book VII.
*
*
Disorder twilight,
A reordered outtake ~
Order more takeout food!
Installments from the intricate plot
Reveals. Invitations,
Slipped under your door,
All told,
All for
An afternoon course, a symposium, a persistent, random
Disarray. An aggravated assault lost on order
Lost, now inhabits our tonight.
I still say...
"An elegant courtly demeanor
Attires my tired daze. My gaze,
Still yours. My love ablaze, even here in early
Evening air, another year"
~ And now,
The eight o’clock hour chimes, demands
RSVP.
These lines,
My scripted rhyme,
Announce another arrival ~ A theatrical
Revival~
Attach my string of pearls,
Rush us out the door! City cabs, hansom
Horse-drawn carriages roll up ~
Spirit
Bound toward the theater.
Reservations booked
For mid-suppers. Our company
Pockets the watch for red-roped barriers,
Reserve undoes,
Drags the audience into the foot lights. Gives up
Regret. Ushers hope.
Apres Afterward,
The Red Garter,
Just a drag
Bar en Morning
Wood, we’ll stop by ~ I'll stroke your butt,
You'll stoke
My flames…
Sometime later ~
Love stands still. Labour passes.
Fortune's bucket hangs suspended
In the middle
Of the well,
The spinning-wheel, a roulette
Next to Black Jack,
Forgets its round.
~The clock
Hovers ~
The bartender shucks fresh oysters, tosses out
Beer shuffle-caps. All dance, stand gaping
Till the lunar light's
Far outta sight.
*
FOOD.—
“Take that; and He that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age.â€
~ Shakespeare.—As you Like it, Act II. Scene 3. (Adam to Orlando.)
KNOWLEDGE.—
“Just notions will into good actions grow,
And to our reason we our virtues owe;
False judgments are the unhappy source of ill,
And blinded error draws the passive will.
To know one God, and know ourselves, is all,
We can true happiness or wisdom call.â€
~ Reading.—Christian instructed. 3 Notes and Queries, 240.
“Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall be increased.â€
~ Daniel, Chap. XII. Verse 4.
“Beyond abstain
To ask; nor let thine own inventions hope
Things not reveal’d which the invisible King,
Only omniscient, hath suppress’d in night;—
Enough is left besides to search and know.
Knowledge is as food, and needs no less
Her temperance over appetite.â€
~ Milton.—Par. Lost, Book VII.
*
_______
Blog, or dog? Who knows. But if you see my lost pup, please ping me!
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