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Poems by Harley White and other works
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MY VILLANELLE
1 - SONNET ON VISION What inward sight illuminates
our way - Whose lucid eye can all the ages
span - To see the Mystic Law that holds
its sway Beyond the endless birth and
death of Man? The luminary moon, when night is
done, Still rules the tides, though
the daylight hides it. The lotus always turns to face
the sun And yet what blossom eye ever
guides it? The cross-eyed men with
intellect adorn Their intuitions - blind who
lead the blind - The common mortals - blind when
they were born - With doubtful eyes that Truth
could never find. We look - we stare - we gaze and gaze - but we, With sightless eyes, forever fail to see. Harley White October 6, 1999
2 - SONNET ON TIME Is time a spiral stairway that
we climb Whose unendingness we seek to
borrow To the last wrought syllable of
our rhyme Tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow
- The fusion of the future with
the past In dizzying dimensions ever new Which hurl us headlong in a void
so vast That what we view as false
appears as true? We must peer through bars
forever blocking Upon the threshold of our
promised land - At the gates of eternity
knocking - Outside we stand - albeit hand
in hand. Through the rush of time we’re ceaselessly swirled. How heartless is the transience of this world! Harley White October 7, 1999
3 - SONNET ON MIND When reflecting on the nature of
mind Of what wit or wisdom do we dare
speak? For the wind in the sky is all
we find, In a round and round game of
hide and seek. It’s mind over matter, sages
surmise; With power of mind as their
driving force Deductive logicians philosophize From ‘We think, therefore we
are...’ as the source. We muse; we spin, in dreaming
delusion, Our webs of thought, until
nought we behold, And heady with sense, fall in
confusion. Or is yet the end of the story
told? As our labyrinth journey turns and twists, We lose our way in miasmas and mists. Harley White October 8, 1999 |
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THE SEA AND I
Once I was sand dab small urchin of the tides shrieking with the gulls on my blanket of sand and head high as the waves I was playmate to the sea One and one were we under the clouds of foam . . . Sand crabs tickled my toddles The conch sang hushabies of the surf The horses of the sea whinnied the tunes of my periwinkle dreams . . . . . .
Who sells cockles for my suckle? Who can cuddle stars to sleep? What Sandman rock-a-byes yesternight’s cradle?
All the sun long day I melted from green to gold holding the hand of the sea for only a rainbow long and gathering handfuls of mist I was Captain of the tides . . . Dolphins dipped to my horn The turrets of my castles trembled the wind The shrill of my whistle shivered the still of the serpent’s lair . . . . . .
Who can ride the ebbless tide? Who can borrow wings from the wind? What Sandman can cool the burn of my yearnings?
Each stolen night and day I streaming down the shore danced the fire dance in the tongues of the leaping waves Neptune strong Colossus high I strode the shallow deep Buccaneer of the boundless main Captain Hook of my mussel fleet . . . The peaks of my mountains scraped the clouds The crash of my drumbeats thundered the sky The sting of the salty spray blurred my lordly eyes
Hickory Dickory heedlessly I waded the Gulliver shore While sands of the hourglass trails trickled forever by . . . . . .
Who can caress the foam? Who can touch nevermore? What Sandman can dry the tears of the sea?
YOU AND I
Do not give me words of wisdom Give me of yourself in gentle flow . . . When I am mute be not my voice Let me wander the shores of your silence . . . Take not my anger on your shoulders If I ask you ‘How?’ answer that nothing more Join in my laughter if it be your pleasure When I cry out ‘Help!’ give not advice – whys and wherefores dos and don’ts – Hold me that my tears may come and go . . .
If I fall do not lift me to my feet Stay by my side awhile I’ll right myself Please don’t speak in tones of reassurance Give me your trust and your hand . . . When I cower frozen in fear give me not protection safety would suffocate Let me but linger before the warm fire of you till my own rekindles . . .
I may scream my anguish do not silence me with words Mine is my pain only embrace me in the strong circle of your arms Yet do not fill me when I’m empty Share share where you are that I may feel your presence and my own . . . If I’m lost choose not my road My direction I will find my way Give me no vows speak not of promises All the rest of your tomorrows cannot touch today . . .
I would know you here in the now of our being meeting anew each liquid moment into another One and one are we giving I giving you giving now in gentle flow . . .
L’AUTRE MOI
I am the metronome mover of measures wide . . . . . . . . wide . . . . . . . . . . . . swings my pendulum tracing the tempos of time
Tick-tock my hands a poco a presto strum staccato the strings of my mind
I am the hollow hourglass Trickle my tunes to the tilt of the times
The see-sawing sea paces my sands -- murmurs ageless songs in major and minor
Sharp waves crack my still mirror -- capture the startled sun in splintered rays
I am the pulse of the wordless deep Somehow constant my cadence Somehow the play of my tides echoes the gravity of the moon
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I want to learn to live before I die
