Hi Gary,
Like the work of Eliot this is a poem to savour and take a bath in. I like
it a lot.
bw
James
>From: garydawg <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: New: I Might Wear White (gary goes hyper)
>Date: Mon, 14 Jan 2002 15:58:43 -0800
>
>(The line: I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.)
>
>I Might Wear White
>
>Between Pentecost and Yom Kipper,
>I might wear white,
>a ice cream suit worthy of Sam Clemens on London's stage
>or a frame for Brady's Cross of Gold,
>if white were fashionable
>enough
>for the women not to point and whisper
>when I stroll to and fro.
>
>I might don a robe
>of unbleached lamb's wool,
>held together with hemp rope , ivy vine
>or leather belt,
>rough spun cloth good enough
>until I enter yonder rolls
>while the women pray words seldom heard and point heavenward
>as I dunk and sputter.
>
>Clothed in white,
>I might go to sea in rusty ships or leaky skiffs,
>one ear strained to hear
>the rapids boil,
>the other your babble
>of parasols and fashion
>as the women on the shore droll on
>about when white is right.
>
>Topped with a spinner
>trimmed in red and blue,
>I might wear a linen suit and wide bow tie
>to picnic
>on the grassy knoll -
>peaches, cream and lobster claws consumed
>as the women in the park hawk lemon ice
>and French postcards to read when it is dark.
>
>I shall wear white flannel trousers,
>rolled to my knees and stroll among the surf
>peach pits tossed to crabs,
>crosses traded for sanded dollars,
>parasols adrift on the wind,
>postcards wrapped in cellophane, safely tucked away
>to show the women while they scrub grass stains
>from my outer garments.
>
>The inner lost when stole
>by a painter
>in need of rags to clean his brushes.
>
>*
>
>If I looked inside me I might find
>a small dog,
>the yapping kind, Chinese,
>a kitten starved
>or parakeet that lost a voice it never knew it had.
>
>A disciple unsure
>The Word he has been given
>is not the Devil's folly
>or he is worthy
>of the attention a Word brings.
>
>And they wander the sands
>in search of Moses
>and water
>as they trail
>behind Lawrence's abandoned camel.
>
>A lawyer
>who sues for innerwear
>in hopes
>the outer will given freely
>without the expense of open court and bribed judges.
>
>And the women
>sit and sip their tea,
>sit and point and gossip
>of you and me
>anxious for home and French postcards.
>
>As inside
>I walk upon the beach
>in unrolled white trousers
>wet with surf
>and brown with sand and kelp.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>January guest Nat at: http://gardawg.homestead.com/gardawg.html,
>
>Submissions: http://www.writershood.com/index.html
>
>Poets for Peace. ˇPoemas sí, balas no!
bw
James
_________________________________________________________________
Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp.
|
