December-17

Cantos from the Hôtel de Rambouillet, by Various

I.

Full solstice Moon, my lunatic soul, holding Sorrows and Delights. Talk what you please, Eve, of the fading light in the western sky, the sweet purple fever of twilight. The moon is a milk stain, dreaming the night. Silent, the dying stars sing. I hear the wind in the reeds of the city.

II.

underneath with swifteptosoon dumbsweet ooofoofofofofofope of hopestars,Earthbleed.wereedsbleepleednopurpledsouleve Eve Eve she drifts, Eve winterloveventurless–stripp’d drift silken All chilly Earthblood, grovedeludwintervavavalvalva valley valva cold in bleed in Spring Steals lie flow’r O Seated flow’rollingpearl blur Blue She blur She, Nymph of liquid gushonotoonotoonotoonotowinter stole hear thy voice no more Leave thee in thy dim silent cell deluded thus.

underneath with thee, her purpled flow’r sleepdancing alone, sessesissessossessinthe frail veils bleed the blood of Earth, Moon stole’nomelodioushall’drous we sang Silent, we weeweep Silent, we we weeweeks Silent wake Silent pluck songriseSilent laugh we too soon Silent western sky sink soft away Silent caves we we weehidden dreaming Silent in wond’rous Blueblurs of desire flutter.

III.

O, languid morn
this day is the ship which sails
and steals the twilight fair—
sweet dazzling Eve
and her silken purpled wind

cold sun-rise
wrecked the dreaming—
thy frail veils stole
the venturous poet’s home
and lie bare-a modest flow’r

IV.

Pensive Eve, sweet child of Spring
Steals with swift step to the sunless crypt
To mourn he, shut from heaven
And lie in sorrow’s shade
Where twilight veils this living pearl
Beneath her purpled wings

Fair flow’r, frail tenant
Cast from earth’s enchanted hills
My siren soul, I hear thy voice no more
Leave thee in thy dim silent cell
Free at last of thy dreaming life
And with the western sky sink soft away

V.

Holding the sky in her hands she drifts, dreaming. Still. Dancing, laughing, weaving. Possessing no fear, she drifts. Blue blurs green in the white sunlight of desire. She is no prisoner of the city. Her dreams flutter, drenched in light. Wrought with purple fever. She drifts. Dreaming.

VI.

goldenmoon speak to us of truth

closepressed mortals sing no-truth not-truth
in their smooth melodious voices

truth is not numbers is not thundr’ous
strengthen your softwoven lunarvoice

brokenmoon speak to us of sorrows

soft sobs from your frail-headed earthsouls
lift your face bring offerings bring herbs

sing to diana-of-the-pities
and her divine all-healing dryads

philosophicmoon speak to us of mysteries

mysteries are not your histories
not arcadia not whispertales

magical mortals find hiddenfruits
new languages of insanity

fevermoon speak to us of passions

breath-panting mortals lunatic-tranced
double-woven in one another

your wetdelights wondrous ripe-scented
gifts of temporal insomnia

godmoon speak to us of science

science is not wisdom not fiction
not seated on altars in heaven

live in selenocentric regions
commit to drawing lunar orbits

fullmoon speak to us of solstice

standstill of the broken satellite
newborn buds on all reflected slopes

senselessnoise falls still in healing sleep
strengthen resist singsoft and find light

VII.

December twilight
White-plumed, cold, and lorn
A single star
Once a man
Lived for thirty years
A single dream spoiled
Halfway to Heaven
Time shall cease
Forevermore

VIII.

Mourn the wearied day
with honours heaped
on last glories of sunset

Rosy thoughts of distant
red and gold that stain
transparent clouds
to fires of flaring flames

Burning daylight draperies
as twilight, harbinger
of darkness descends

And city labyrinths, bristling
with discordant cries
clamour for calm and harmony
when dwindled light dies

IX.

This age of ours rests on all pictures of the living day
In the taking of it breathe, over-busy hand and brain,
Lingering long in dreamy reverie as either hand may
Rightly clutch report or lamentation
And on the threshold of our time alone
Whose life and death a mighty shadow thrown
At thy threshold, on thy hearth where mansions keep
All who lie beneath, while away the evening hour
Or wake the echoes, mournful, lone and deep
It shall ease thy mortal strife in its dreaming bower

X.

The Blind Man
observes with saddened pose
a world brushed by the shadows
of melancholy
and horror:

The Gipsy proffers
with outstretched hand the twilight of the Moon
to the Blind Man he
Twilight bells! As euphony voluminously wells
so delight musically swells
of Brazen bells — of Golden bells — of Silver bells
What a world of happiness
their harmony foretells!

They rhyme!

All the bells in her song all in tune

They ring!

The Enchanters—
Brazen bells! chiming, in the air, in the clamorous clangour
of the Harlequin merriment night,
Leaping higher, higher, higher
What their melody foretells!

The Sorcerers—
Golden bells! chiming, in the air, in the clamorous clangour
of the Harlequin merriment night,
Leaping higher, higher, higher
What their melody foretells!

The Fairies—
Silver bells! chiming, in the air, in the clamorous clangour
of the Harlequin merriment night,
Leaping higher, higher, higher
What their melody foretells!

For every sound that floats

And his merry bosom swells
With the pæan of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Merry rhyme,
To the pæan of the bells—

Of the bells

9 thoughts on “December-17

  1. ‘sorrows and delights’

    bring transparent flutter of sails
    wearied clouds all-healing purple wrought
    frail he steals to lie beneath this city–
    his histories heaped from dazzling draperies
    cold morn’d offerings
    a distant lunatic wind

    holding onto insanity
    he dreams of rosy veils
    and wondrous purple dancing
    a temporal silken twilight sound
    in reeds he drifts-her sorrow the she–
    a discordant prisoner–full of talk

    living in ease his shadow away
    her brain a silent lingering strife–
    she wakes to laugh beneath her veil
    a mournful voice blur–his reverie–
    to keep bleeding dreaming a silent blue
    she pities what threshold of desires clutch

    Liked by 3 people

  2. [I stole voices]

    l

    into my sleep a stain that chills
    the closepressed trance of night
    a dream of soft enchanted hills
    moonshadowed bleed of light

    this is the song my star foretells
    I hear it in my breath
    frail melancholy distant bells
    the broken voice of death

    ll

    luna, luna, dazzling white
    liquid milkstar in the night
    what sleepdancing nymph of light
    veils thy flaring satellite?

    lll

    I orbit wearied by the clouds
    wetdrift in melancholy air
    when all at once discordant sound
    voicebroken languages I hear
    sad whispertales the dreamchild tells
    to mournful ring of golden bells

    lV

    this is my thirty years to heaven
    wake to my rolling from greengrove and valley
    and the solsticemoon and the newborn
    purpled slopes

    Liked by 4 people

  3. Heaven in Her Hands

    Eve drifts in milk-white light
    her solstice soul a purple stain
    on mortal histories.
    Pensive Eve, sweet dazzling Eve,
    on dreaming clouds of languid veils
    Eve floats, transparent,
    to a Heaven wrought of whispertales
    and melancholy melodies sung silent, still,
    in harmony with Earthblood sorrows and delights.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. Threshold of Sleep

    Full solstice moon floats in the night sky
    this silent moon, a healing pearl
    The city drifts, dreaming.

    In the labyrinth of life and death,
    my soul, with outstretched hands

    a prisoner of temporal insomnia
    I hear new languages of stars
    and the bells keeping time,

    the bells keeping time

    Liked by 3 people

  5. The Gipsy proffers

    The Gipsy proffers
    with outstretched hand the glories of the Moon
    of the fading light in the western sky

    I hear enchanted thy voice speak whispertales mysteries are not your histories not arcadia of thy dreaming life

    Silent in wond’rous Blueblurs of desire

    O Seated flow’rollingpearl blur my thoughts with thy cold wetdelights in bleed in Spring where twilight veils this living pearl of light;

    The Enchanters’ Moon proffers—

    My lunatic soul its mysteries Her siren soul its wisdom

    while she holding the sky in her hands she drifts, dreaming, we too soon silent western sky sink soft away in her bower dreaming

    And with the western sky sink soft away
    All who lie beneath wake the echoes
    of the human heart that loved while she floats above us in labyrinths of darkness holding Sorrows and Delights Dancing, laughing, weaving. Possessing no fear, she drifts.

    Dreaming the night dying stars sing

    The Sorcerers’ Moon proffers—

    That which the full Solstice Moon foretells:

    O Goldenmoon
    I hear thy songriseSilent voice speak of Sorrows

    O Brokenmoon
    I hear thy magical voice speak of Mysteries

    O Philosophicmoon
    I hear thy Pensive voice speak of Passions

    O Fevermoon
    I hear thy Spring voice speak of Science

    O Godmoon
    I hear thy sweet voice speak of Solstice

    O Fullmoon
    I hear thy twilight voice speak of Truth

    Lingering long in dreamy reverie on the threshold of our time alone she steals with swift step to that Tomorrow where Time shall cease

    Her dreams flutter, drenched in light. Wrought with purple fever. She drifts. Dreaming the night. Dreaming

    and steals the twilight lunar languages of the poet’s heart

    as Moon as the Gipsy-nymph descends

    and dwindled light that ebbs and flows sinks sinking dies

    of happiness dreaming the night

    lunatic-tranced dream

    by her

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Frail-headed
    Once a man.
    Keeping time time time wrecked the dreaming.

    Sleepdancing alone; new languages of insanity
    Halfway to heaven, forevermore.
    Last glories spoiled: veils bleed shadows.

    Mourn rosy thoughts
    Frail Tenant; Lunatic Soul.

    Liked by 3 people

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