FROM COLUMBUS TO A NURSARY RHYME Poems 1993 by Klaus J. Gerken 1. From a First Line made from Pierre de Ronsard I walk the crowded streets where thousands hurry from womb to hollow grave through greater worry Through forms of concrete, ant-hills of desire - there's one more ruse that rants the fire. Pale winter's frost beneath their feet, they carry forth their septic eyed indifference And notice nought what they should notice - Eyes closed - the mind feels less and less resurgence. The hawk upon the wing in winter's traces The snowy encrustations form a blanket of enchantment on the trees - the partridges upon a forest clearing - the fieldmouse darts from snowy owl. These are things I see - while not among them - in the crowd; I do not hurry and I notice what the world is all about. Gerken 1 Jan 93 2. Clausentum I I walk the crooked path where rose buds hang From trellises that cling like moss against the walls Of what the giants wrought, weird-like, old and grey, From times the desperate gods had stood upon the earth, Before they lost dominion over vassal and the land They kept control of by their iron hands - With not just words illumined in a book, But greater deeds than man himself can hoist a breath. Among those broken stones and ugly weeds I see the living dead, ghost-like, ply their trades Daily in the streets, and full surmise the nightly pleasures there, With music sweet and mellow... I despair Their passing! - It is we who are the gods, but now Forgetting ancient things and lessons to be learned. Gerken 1 Jan 93 3. Clausentum II There is a hollow wind that blows throughout And shrivels up the spine of any mortal who would dare To venture through the hollow alleys of this place. A plague upon the ones who made it thus! and tore The gold and ivory and the marble to the ground To cart away and building lesser trinkets for their greed. There's a emptiness I feel - sadness, as of night Where no stars shine and evil winds still blow. I found a yellowed parchment neath a slab Of marble shattered by a workman's hammer; The writing, faded, stained and torn - it read: "The oracle is ugly for the future of this place. Beware! thou unregarding, soon there will be nothing left." Gerken 1 Jan 93 4. Oh Canada! Oh Canada! what future have you chosen for yourself? What course upon the great portage is yours! What wilderness is underfoot - what people will you meet? And how will you adjust your constitution? You have found a boundless range of cultures Meeted in your cities and your country places! You have given greater tolerance and greater freedom To those cultures than has any nation on the earth! So what has this diversity consumed Within the soul of what is great and wonderful? What have you understood of language and of culture? What have you collected as a prime Ideal? For as diverse this country is, there is only one Country - we together form that country - in our unity. Gerken 1 Jan 93 5. Poetry and Silence Don't ask me if the silence is too real - A poet knows no silence but of the ideal Required for his work, and that entails No silence in his head. The clamour of his thoughts That form a living on the paper Breathing in the heart of any reader Touched by depths of feeling, pulled From chaos to the proper level of sublime Experience. This is what the poet craves: The force that is creation from the first Primal moment of the universe - before the quark And the electron danced upon the face of God. Before God was the Word, the thought and the reality. The poet senses this, and trembles neath the void. Gerken 1 Jan 93 6. Walls In Berlin when the wall came down Sabine stood and cried She had a brother who a year before Was killed while trying to escape "It's not fair! Not fair!" she cried "The Communists are Vile!" She spat upon the ground While all around her Berlin danced. Scars are like a raging river We build bridges we can cross In relative safety from one side To the other - but we don't look down - For if we do, the past comes raging back And we are reminded how easy is still to jump. Gerken 1 Jan 93 7. Columbus Lied So Columbus lied. He had his interests to conceal. His maps and unknown pilot and the art of harnessing the wind with sails. Out of Palos, south along the coast of Africa and westward after the Canaries. Or so he would have us believe. Actually he met the wind south westerly And clipped his sails, in the waters of the Portuguese, beyond the Azores, so the enemy should not find out. He had his reasons, and he lied. Lied to crew, and King and Queen. But ignoring land until his crew spread the thought of mutiny along the decks. He finally made landfall, south of where he said he was and, where his maps had guided him. The natives told him of his kinsmen who where there before, and he was not surprised. Immediately he fled the place and made the south again Looking for the island that he knew about - the island of the Grail. But never found it. Instead when beaten by the task He forced his logs to echo "Chypango". "Chypango", That was all the sovereigns should know. That was in their interest. And so he returned, with stories of the riches he had never found, And plans to conquer a new world. Gerken 2/01/93 8. Lee-Anne Lee-Anne, blond demure and oh so lovely Spoke to me. The first time that he spoke to me About anything but business. She said "Hi - How was your New Year? - How are you doing? How are things?" - I a bit surprised said, "Fine.", "Very quiet". - "Same with me." and then another Customer came. "Have a happy New Year!" Oh she Smiled and turned away, a twinkle in her eyes I'm sure just meant for me. I spoke to Leslie awhile, of New Year, loosing weight etcetera and all the while I could not take My mind away from lovely blond demure Lee-Anne, Who was working at her counter never looking up To rescue me from these great pangs of love. Gerken 2/01/92 9. Nursery Rhyme Oh where's the morrow? Where's the morrow? When will morrow come? Morrow will come soon, my child When sleep-heads are done Dreaming and the dew lies on the meadow Fresh and clear and innocent. Gerken 2/01/92 10. Loves Vanity "Do not wait for me to come to you I wait for you to come to me." Such is love's own vanity: It breeds the death of love for me. Gerken 2/01/92 11. Daydream The snow upon my tongue is soft and mild. I'm happy, Lee-Anne, and dancing like a child! I am aware of the age difference, but love Kisses moon and stars and strokes a gentle dove. And I am master without realm that is my own And I crown my queen and I am richer than the gnome Who guards the treasure at the rainbow's end. If only you would smile for me again, again, and yet again! There's a place in my heart for an old song and a new Song and a glass of wine and you, my love, and you. There's a gleam in eye and I choke upon a tear to have you near. A surge of blood collects me and I steal Towards a new horizon where my love is queen; Queen who would take commoner to be her King. Gerken 2/01/92 12. I Pricked my Finger I pricked my finger on a rose It bled and some blood fell Upon the grave of my lost love And from the blood there grew A bramble bush - confusion Reigned within my heavy heart It was then I heard and Angel A messenger of love - she said "The bramble bush is what is in your heart "Shed it like the wind sheds all "Shed it like a snake sheds old skin "Shed it like a monk sheds sin" I did not fully understand I covered up my face with tears And where a single tear fell down Upon the ground where brambles lay They turned into a hedge of roses Roses red and yellow, white and blue And my angel thus returned to me "Now you will be free to feel Another love - a new ideal" I let my lost love rest in peace I went back home and made obeisance And made a place for her in memory. Gerken 2/01/93 13. Images of Gold There's a fantasy that's not a fantasy, I guess It crops up in the mind of individuals Who read too many books, see too much TV or listen on the radio for images of gold. There's a feeling of revolutionary new That matters in the universe, even if we do not think It does. It does. And we are still the centre of Existence. Despite good Ptolemy or no! Dreams unite! It is a world of shadows And of night, a wonder and of gentle fantasy! It is a world where we can enter any door And come out in another world and be Whatever we were meant to be. It's real. Our dreams are real. Our waking's real. We are real. Gerken 2/01/93 14. Columbus' Prayer I would wait for you in silence Before the broken mast of my discovery Wind of change upon my brow and salt sea in my coffers I would wait for you with heavy heart Before the clouds of past insanity Sea spray on my tongue and a sword to make the sailors suffer I would wait for you with baited breath Oh beautiful horizon of another world But first I must thank God for his demise And punish sailors who would mutiny I would wait for you like a lover at a woman's door I would, were you a Siren, lash me to the mast Of my desire and my constancy! I would conquer you, my goddess of the future I would pray that you forgive your conqueror. Gerken 2/01/93 15. Heretic The emperor had no clothes And I have no more wine You thought yourself a Caesar But I had no less crime It was matchbox perfect I remember well the curse You brought me hemlock whiskey And I brought you Tristram's hair You bled me with indifference You were cruel beyond compare You said I killed your husband I said "He ate the pear" I shot upon a starry night A star without regret They gathered me into a box And burned each bone I left. Gerken 2/01/93 16. Drifting I am lost without endeavour in the Sargasso weed Forever drifting from the plastic border of the ocean To another undefined harangue - boundary but yet no Boundary - greenery but yet no solid footing! How does one survive the undefined? How does one Divide the undivided? How give credence to the death Of one but not another? How collect the wind That never blows? How drift without a current? I am like what you have never brought before a judge Because there is no reason, because there is no cause That I am living for. I drink my wine. I sing my songs. I live from day to day like a crustation. I shed my hardness with a poem and renew myself And like Sargasso weed drift on and on. Gerken 2/01/93 17. The Rose Dark eyed woman of the moon There is a poison that does not die too soon It conquers those who are bereft of reason And makes them swoon beneath love's season. In the gloom I see, it cannot be just past desire. Past religious fervour, past the raging fire In my heart. I break the glass of New Year's eve And know where I would someday be Within your arms! Oh Dark eyed beauty of the wind The wind blows through me and is chill Without the warmth that you engender. We together! That's the rose Conquered by the trellis of our love. Gerken 2/01/93 18. There's a disconcerting future in the past It engages us in speculation, but it lasts Among the sinews of the nerves of History Engaging all in the fulsome throttle of respect (We are part of something greater than we can regret) We are children of the universe and not just bits of this Inheritance of earth beneath our feet. So who are we To say "Our feet"? Others came before, others who Are greater than the "modern" intellectual revolution. Breaking bonds of nature, so we shadow box Heaping on a pile of garbage that we dump Without respect upon our children's dread inheritance. May we not surrender while the cost is less Than what the loss entails? The tongues are silent and the message fails. Gerken 2/01/93 19. There's a woman on my elbow Means me kinda harm Says she is a plastic Ultra sensitive alarm I didn't dare believe her I met her on the phone "You are not together". I said, "You are not alone." The children cried like children The swing swung in the yard And the diamonds were all coal dust And the butter was just lard And on the kitchen counter The oranges were white And the icebox was an oven And the forks were sharp as knives I was quite, and quite empty There was a painting on the wall Of Hitler and his lovely Loralie... I almost separated The cause from the effect I passed some lighter fluid And lit my self respect I said that I was sorry I could not meet her where The oil came from the freighters And claimed the ocean fair But still she came invited By herself and all her "boys" She stapled us together And said love was a toy So here we are in never Never never land Never never never Lost in hand to hand... Gerken 2/01/93 All poems copyright (c) 1993 Klaus J. Gerken Published by Ygdrasil Press