I saw the assemblage of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the aviator.
Now is just the thing,
To get me wondering if aviation was exciting.
Don’t believe that airplanes are extraordinary?
Airplanes are ordinary beyond belief.
Down, down, down into the darkness,
Gently they go – the unexceptional, the common, the run-of-the-mill.
Just like murders, is planes.
Do planes make you shiver?
There were blasts of thunder
As we learned your canon
You are our poet and tribe
You summed us all up
Whilst you became more
And while you figured out
You helped us pay off debts
You were way into your talk
At The Brewery – still
Wondering where your head
Was at, my poetry like
Drunk slurred speech
To embody, to embody
The winds speak your name
A Prayer in Spring
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.
And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.
For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil
From childhood’s hour I have not beenAs others were—I have not seenAs others saw—I could not bringMy passions from a common spring—From the same source I have not takenMy sorrow—I could not awakenMy heart to joy at the same tone—And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—Then—in my childhood—in the dawnOf a most stormy life—was drawnFrom ev’ry depth of good and illThe mystery which binds me still—From the torrent, or the fountain—From the red cliff of the mountain—From the sun that ’round me roll’dIn its autumn tint of gold—From the lightning in the skyAs it pass’d me flying by—From the thunder, and the storm—And the cloud that took the form(When the rest of Heaven was blue)Of a demon in my view—
America v. America Series 2018-348
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC