In the City of Art

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.