The Robo Pope

May 4, 2008

The House of Forever & The Poet’s House (7-Poems)

May 04th 2008 Posted to Artistry

1The Muttering Souls

I awoke from a dream, dark and somber

(I was back in the arctic again)

profound it was, to find out a single

arctic door, with a cryptic murmur

(muttering souls)

stubbornly opened upall filled with pillars

and ice cold floors: adorned me evermore.

Layer, upon layer: laid, stood, and paced,

were the dead!…

(With folded arms and sunken in chests.)

Half frozen in the halls of hell; and thus, I

feared the wisdom of each silent shape!

(For I knew my life was complacency.)

#1084 1/18/2006

2O Quiet Dust

And so we changed at last!

Ah! From changeless years

we seemed to have had

noisy with life, we grew old).

O quiet dust, have you settled yet?

Life gnawed at heart and soul,

And you bore the pain (if so).

Are we not all a mystery?

Here comes the: day, hour, minute

Ah! who will meet me at the

Pathless gate…?

#1084 1/18/2006

3The Land of Forever More

[Dedicated to the aging with dignity group]

Wholesome snowflakes of winter blow

And squirrels hide avoid the snow,

In this city I roamed as a boy,

Carefree and many years ago.

Strange even to myself, am I!

For the lads that roamed with me,

(Years ago); are changed I see

Like megray and some are dead.

And now as I look out, from my porch

Memories haunt the hollow past,

And yes, I still hear voices, echoes,

Old dreams, old friends vibrating back.

I wait now for the path and sunrise.

I who will journey, beyond the stars;

I notice the light is not so very far:

I see it now, in a land calledforever more!

#1083 1/18/06

The Poet’s House

1A Lone Poet

A poet is a gift from God

(I heard said once);

listen to him said Jeffers

(back in ‘63); but for the sake

of God, let him be…do not

kill his art, his play, like you

did to Keats and Hemmingway.

A poet is one who has learned

and whispers back what

Faulkner dare not say! And thus,

lost his way.