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A POCKETFUL OF JEWELRY
As on the mind of a sleeping child A ship floated on the sea Beneath the dark or whitish clouds Astride a dormant storm Suffused throughout the sea. A maiden's pocketful of jewelry Adorned the slipping sky Whence dark had rained to fill the land wet azure overlay. Embraced by wind the sails strained through a night that cut like ice Away the Lady from an earthen world No freedom could entice The bow would beckon; the sails strained to a horizon at once unfurled. So through a slowly breathing ocean He steered his ship to sail And as a drowning coin descends up rose the petals of the sun In faded scarlet, white, and orange And with the currents, so went she And drank the light of morn. He drank of love of life and breathed the wildness of the air The wildness that frocked the sails The air that filled his lungs Through which in peace his lady sailed. A ride along the bridges of the Nile Before a fire of autumn trees Wherein a man can only live So sought a ship that foreign land Where all ye need to know on earth Runs through and by your fingertips, As on a hill as in a plain there floated on the sea In light of evening waning dim Ahead of where they were A thing of cut, engraved oak wood. It drifted near reflecting back the shades of scarlet orange that fell in drifts from the disc that warmed the seaman and his boat, She swept nearby the thing of wood He delivered it warmly from the sea And held it like a fragile photograph fading from his memory. Ahead were more; he took them too And held them even so Four wooden sculptures on the deck All shivered in the salty wind. As on the edge of a cobblestone wall There grew atop horizons vast Another ridge of ridges dark That sailed like shadows in the earthly black And now the sun would rise and fall Across the bridge nowhere to go A month gone by A season changed was all that spoke of how much time A sailor and a sleek white ship Were all that went through waters warm Where anything passed through your fingertips and slipped away but time. But here in ancient Western waters No wooden sculptures wept or shivered The New World called to one or other Ahead he saw the land of life It stretched around and came behind And here in a pale, cool winter light Beneath the dark or whitish clouds Coral hands stretched up to reach And here she ran aground. As on the eyes of a crying child His eyes gazed back upon the sea And washed the mast from bottom to top With water that rose the salty sea The land was here, the sacred land The one he'd sought for all his life So gazed the man for many hours Upon the stuff of paradise Till like a snowflake bathed in dusk Falling from the dark above He dropt to sleep at last. --MH
THE
NORAH VERSES
My
Friend
Norah was written by RMH in the
1930s or 1940s. It is a collection of verses for the entertainment of
children. This is the first publication of selected verses from the set.
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(UNTITLED)
There
never was NORAH'S GARDEN
Oh,
I shall have a garden
Ah,
I shall have a garden
And
I shall make my garden (UNTITLED)
I
love to walk in flower beds
But
here is what I'd rather do KITTY BROWN
Kitty
Brown, Kitty Brown, |
NORAH'S FLOWER SONG
What
is sweeter than a flower PRETTY KITTY
Kitty's
face is oh, so sweet, (UNTITLED)
Brown
food,
All
shapes, THE WIND
The
North wind is a snow-man (UNTITLED)
The
moon comes out |
ALL
HAIL!
Let
only the eager, thoughtful, and reverent enter here. --Inscription
on the gates of Pomona College
Of
eager there are many,
Of
thoughtful there are few,
Of
reverent there are none.
They
enter the machine and
are
de-moneyed, stamped, filed,
welcomed,
tea'd,
traditioned,
dressed
and served,
lectured,
quizzed,
oversexed,
revolted,
bearded,
queered,
devirgined,
Goded,
cliqued,
hated,
administrationed,
expelled,
finaled,
failed,
TGFO'd,
SL'd, ASPC'd, BA'd,
groomed,
fellowship'd,
Tea'd,
de-moneyed, and
graduated.
Their
minds are cigarettes
which
the machine lights.
They
suck in and blow out the smoke of knowledge
while
flicking away the ashes of uncertainty
as
their tribute.
When
they leave after four years
they
take with them
not
cigarette smoke nor ashes
but
a brown filter. --DAH
(Pomona College Student Life, circa 1958)
SPACE CASE
The Universe is vast and far: Comets ’round a double star, Pinwheel galaxies that spin, Holes so black you can’t see in. Moons that rise by threes each night, Trees that glow with purple light, Cosmic rays and asteriods, Dog-star boys with hydrant toys. Tri-lobed Grelbs that have no brothers, Two-toed Fleebs, and many others-- All these worlds 'neath far-flung skies: Reflections in a child’s sad eyes. Oh! To find that place sublime, Beyond the end of space and time! To venture wide, to travel far, To journey to the Wishing Star! Escape velocity is swift-- Wings of thought provide the lift. She slips past Saturn’s ringèd noose, Beyond the blaze of Betelgeuse! Her mind has warped through time and space; She's visiting a kinder place. She’s fled our sphere of toil and pain; She’s living on the astral plane. --RPH (preface to The Planet Goochin)EIGHTEEN DEGREES
Rockwatch--
Desert
squatting vigil,
hard
against night freeze, a little
close
to fading coals.
Eyes
scan deceptive calm,
numbed
fingers toss
new
sticks to
hungry
flames;
three
a.m. and counting--
scraps
of wood consumed
till
dawn.
I'm
hungry, it's
too
bad the apples froze,
tomorrow
back to town, and
try
again. --AAH
A CHILD'S SONG
The
stars are bright when you see them, this is what they'll look like:
They'll
look like Milky Way dropping,
but except they won't drop and you can pick the Milky Way.
And
the trees are bright and when you see them bright they'll shine with you,
and if you have any mean dreams you can give up all
and when you give up all you'll have nice dreams after all.
You
can dream about you're a princess in a garden growing roses and daisies.
You
can see what they look like; they'll look so pretty.
And
when they look pretty you'll see the flowes blooming
and when you seem them blooming everything will sparkle
and you'll like your dreams very much.
And
when you like them the sugar plums will dance with you.
When
you dance with them you'll see them when they're nice.
Pretend you're Cinderella and that's only a dream.
When
you see it's only a dream everything will look pretty
and when you wake up from your dream in your house
you'll be suprised, you'll see a design
and you'll pretend for real and see the flowers blooming in your house.
And the trees will bloom in your house today.
And
when you see the flowers blooming in your house
you won't believe your eyes.
And
when you see your surprise
you'll look all around your house.
The
flowers will be good to you and you can smell them as much as me,
and when you smell them you'll see some beauty-full sparklng bells,
and they'll be hanging on eveything.
Everything
will be so bright; they'll hang on the walls and everything.
--AMH, 1973 (age 4)
AID FOR THE MORALLY HANDICAPPED
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Use of the breathalyzer, a device to detect drinking drivers, has dramatically reduced traffic fatalities in Britain, but churchmen are unhappy over the results. The problem is "breathalyzer backlash"--young men spending the night in bachelor girls' apartments rather than risking a breathalyzer test by driving home. "This may set the scene for moral lapses and result in blighted lives and lifelong regrets," warned the Christian Medical Fellowship. --news item |
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