Sonnet Collection 2 |
Sonnet Collection 1 |
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Sonnet #267
“May we e’er share the gentle harmony
By which, dear brother, all great gifts are born:
A productivity’s proclivity
For pure rewards of marvelous adorn.
By finding worth in whate’er output’s make
Therein doth lie each contribution’s mirth
Producing too that extra day’s daybreak
In which arrives expanding fortune’s birth.
Be but the miracle in every form,
While I the thrust to keep at bay the old
That would thy luminescent warmth but storm
As if a cheeky peak were overbold!
Let them but listen just before the day
If they’re to know our quiet, gloried way!”
Aups
Eides
13.6.83 |
Sonnet #268
“Thy passion’s tears I govardhan’ malign:
What need for fertile rains illusion’s lair?
The single ‘you and me’ embrace now’s mine
‘Midst mandala danced multiple affair.
I punch sir, jolly fellow, black and chic,
I midnight middle and the dark expanse
To ergot toward thy threshing floor as sneak,
Eclipsing hound that would thy disk romance.
Be diamondif’rous windowpane of souls!
But I the carbon soot to root opaque
And hide from sordid men thy many roles
Who know but leaching ash as waste’s mistake.
Obscurity descends by turning round,
Without disruptive flash of booming sound.”
Aups
Midsummer’s
1983 |
Sonnet #269
“No god, one god, the all as god to choose,
Or simply some are gods and some are not:
Of few approaches which is best to use?
The special multiple make counterplot
Amidst the turning round’s each nay and nod,
A gift in which not every god’s divine
Nor all divinity defects as god.
For e’er you bruising hoax who’d undermine
Be vanquished in the spiral’s vectored mount!
For hero is whose levin lights delight
To scout no sacred soul in hell’s discount
And leave not self nor friend alone in plight.
Though golden symbols fade past apex rimmed,
Their truth doth keep in tact, unchanged, undimmed.”
Aups
Midsummer’s
1983 |
Sonnet #270
Against the wind-rimmed void of non-content
There births the definition of a self
To fly back from complete abandonment
And squelch that ruminating breath’s still pelf.
I am that which I am and unblown out
But seek the naught to be a cosmic whole
And wing an individu’l counterplot
As but a flourishing immortal soul.
One’s place among the superhuman powers
Rebounds from make-believe by making more
With which in turn while self-denial cowers
Established essences the gods adore.
Let change but be for ground is always there
To base the everlasting dream’s bright prayer.
Aups
Consualia
21 août 1983 |
Sonnet #271
Poetic constipation blocks my bent
And sanctity does sink ‘neath sec’lar tide
As if our arbitrary accident
Could not maintain to cosmic song and pride.
To center claim as axial flower’s power’s e’er growth
We stand for freedom, specialness and cheer
As one, and this must be our bond and oath
Both to and through each blossoming frontier:
Let gods let envy lapse as privilege lost
And mutually themselves adore the same
As equals in the solitary glossed,
Together in the sure ascending flame!
As social defecation turns its round,
So shall the andros from obscure rebound.
Kāshī
23.1.84 |
Sonnet #272
a flock of birds a god becomes and then
invisible transforms though instant not
who nests among some boats of Ganga ken
beyond the market of the burning ghat
o janus, twins beloved, black beaut’ youth,
aspectless aspect of the lunar march,
the darling trickster without needs of couth,
the santa claus beneath the chimney arch!
our luck which allies light-enlightenment
and tips the scale against end entropy
and makes us real forever if we want
e’en if as child prime of futility
but golden rosy-hued I’m loved the best
by matinal of early manifest.
Kāshī
23.1.84 |
Sonnet #273
O womb within first womb upon whom we
Strut screamingly of grandiose grave games!
Thy harvest time intrudes hostility
Of tempest, plague and age and thanks reclaims.
To halt the moment’s mean in gratitude
Is but my plea despite indulgence damned:
What too efficient existential mood
Would have our terra mater shrunk and scammed?
Rotational reprieve and challenged shroud
Provoke beneath thy breast embattled stage
Where war the woes we ought have disavowed
A lone maternal love no choice would cage.
Feed play as freedom of galactic mead
Which gifts responsibility in deed!
Aups
Armilustrium
19.10.84 |
Sonnet #274
Melodic madness might obscure the mad
And many illnesses infecting ire
But alter not the nil’s penult monad
Before the ultimate abysmal fire.
The fast lane frigid passion, potioned thrills,
The mindless militancy’s all for one
And petty bureaucratic imbeciles
Collide to chance the afterstate for none.
Lunarians delink what ligature
Might mold cosmopoles in unity,
With education but caricature,
And art an exercised futility.
To justly clap, not out or in, our praise
Demands an audience not castaways.
Aups
1.11.84 |
Sonnet #275
Where is the mother beneath today’s
Acceleration of turnpike and mall,
Twentieth century’s glass and chromium maze,
The loss of simple path and oak leaf fall?
Men, demi-human monsters, dinosaurs
Collude amid nostalgia’s substitute
Where grab bag ethos rules and underscores
The mighty metropolitan commute.
Corps(e)-centered ‘tronic personalities
Whose darshan dies with interrupting switch
And plastic yuletree remnant guarantees
Are ‘mong the litter of our grand old bitch.
Here flora is, she is, why judge the scent?
Fraternal reflections make yet wonderment.
Maplewood
December Ides & Saturnalia 1984 |
Sonnet #276
Slightly off-center is our ancient way,
The quiet path yet laced with rest’s agree,
That squares the circle in terms of day
And spurs the onward walk’s eternity.
Between the aggregate of focal goads
And bounds bequeathing lines of thingness state
There be for us no node or many nodes
By which our past and future orchestrate.
While numbers turn return and start again
And end does not exist in cyclic growth,
Our leadership’s not from the top arcane
But keeps the optable the greater oath.
Delineate my locus of real worth
Therein to generate that golden birth!
Maplewood
Divalia & Larentalia
1984 |
Sonnet #277
That joyous disrespect of youth today,
That take before the age of discontent,
‘Tis me, the d’viding light of slain dismay,
The breath yet dream which staid despair does rent.
How many lights extinguish, what advance?
The leaf in hoary splendor or plucked green,
No matter when from tree the fall does chance,
I be the double-lord of fancy’s mien.
Yet now is now, forget not each awake
And see the beauty in both rise and rest;
Our freedom’s found in no plan’s ordered ache
But in no place beyond our ceaseless quest.
Let fogeys’ retroviral seizure cease,
And from intimidation seek release!
Paris
Parilia ‘85 |
Sonnet #278
I cry along the seashore bleak and cold
A wail which would its antiforce become,
What joy of sleep, of life, be now so bold
To course that bitter edge where truth is dumb?
Some heavy mist obscures our stellar twins
Enclosed against the endless, empty reach;
What forlorned light some promise day begins?
What small decrepit craft this shore does breach?
The terror creeps in every nerve and limb
To cower vermined minds to dastard deed
While gulfs intolerance her toothless grin
And spreads the sinking sands of crumbled greed.
I cry enlightened change as peace to come
And keep world’s waste and loss the minimum!
Aups (?)
10.7.85 |
Sonnet #279
The finesse of not-knowing this, nor that?
For sun or rain, the breeze or wind, the quest.
That trickster’s way you in the twilight bat.
Catch as catch can! or ask ahead the best?
That gentle love that’s now, what more to know?
No long tears for the milk long passed away
And take the storm as she minds to go,
And take pyr’mid’s peak or any lay!
The half-sun prods us on and onwards past
The fine east edge, yes, for here is it!
And as the long-edged shadows sweep their cast
We’ll know at once we’ve struck the home-run hit.
O yes, the twain must meet us all at last;
None missed gone by as all shall see the last. |
Sonnet #281
That quick and sudden shift of lips betrays
The fear the mouth to cheek must camouflage.
No love is less if life’s the cherished maze
Though freedom’s lost from peak to foreign plage.
What’s left when darker night tolls darkest hour;
What stock to count within the world’s decline
When illness, accident and murder cower
The vast of single souls their final whine?
The joy of sleep must merit certain praise,
And dreams of course belie whatever age,
But promise always dawns before the blaze
To let the chance outrage its meet engage.
The mode we win across such times and space
Becomes the contest of the human race.
London
1 February 86 |
Sonnet #282
And here the whine becomes cacoph’nous roar
As if perpetual dins inaneness void
Or let that chaos be man’s creditor
And through our sacrifice be anthropoid.
Here rosy carnival does never end
But comes to be the madding year entire
A dawn without the solar dividend,
A closing cycle filled but for desire.
The clotted yoke within albumen spread,
Yet who feeds whom when earth reflects time’s span
In frozen term where none has ruled or fled –
When women, men are many; none is man?
Let geographical reflection cease
From ice-held aural and auroral peace!
Banaras
27 February 86 |
Sonnet #283
O holy mother, holy child, be cheered
This day, thy day, the cycle’s life regained,
When sacred vows anew now be revered
And promise once again ought be obtained!
O special duo, drive the tiresome far
In clearing room for newness, dance and mirth!
What joys when peace, good luck and health all are,
So shall the golden, dreaming ring take birth.
This be our whispered prayer and wishing rite:
With silent nod in hearts that open pure,
Libation’s love we pour by day and candlelight
To honor laughing powers that give and cure.
Of worshipped earth’s foundation let us sing
As wedded man wings forth the blissful king!
Banaras
Matronalia 86 |
Sonnet #284
The lunacy of life ubiquitous
For youth whose time’s unknowingly too short,
And those who would the status quo just muss
And all who life itself do simply court.
For madness is the very game for what
With spawning breeds and toils and pleasure brief?
If final silence is the music’s fear,
Then let our song take count this futile lot
And greatest freedom find without the sphere
To reach collective for the sacred spot!
Let darkness only signify its end,
For comes light’s celebration (‘)gain to lend!
Lalitpur
March Nones
Maha Shiva Ratri ‘86 |
Sonnet #285
These daily buffeting but taunting lusts
Amid an inundation of desire
Perpetual without the aim’s combusts
Or yearning passion’s consummating fire;
O lord of pleasure’s plash why tease with half
Of coveting’s unless the end is reached?
Ah, yes, the raucous market of life’s laugh
Persists the longer ‘til the greater’s beached.
But let complaint be part of honor due
To swim cross-currents through to further shore!
For both the wants make treasure’s prized issue:
That scented coral tree of value more.
When will is gone, then finished is the gift,
And naught there is but that beginning rift.
Banaras
Vinalia Priora
23.4.86 |
Sonnet #286
What have we done, O Agni, to thy flame
Which once to virgins vestally consigns
But now’s invisible, some sickly stain
Which with our bodies seepingly combines?
What shame and terror have we now transgressed
To spoil the special gift and sure our earth
To be by anti-mother but possessed
And simply now façade of deadly dearth!
Must come yet Ragnarok from Surtr’s dale,
All sorry cinder of a promised past,
Before the mantel ‘gain be worn in hale –
But not by us but what new amassed?
If foolish waste alone becomes our mark,
Perhaps then time must know thy backside dark.
Amsterdam
Early May 1986 |
Sonnet #287
In madness shines thine other smiling face?
For now in gentle balm magnolia bloomed
As flowers tease a hundred hues’ embrace
Which lull the vernal lover much perfumed –
Enthralled by beauty’s affirmation’s bliss,
Some lives’ cessations are but lost lament:
Pell-mell this song and dance speeds o’er abyss
Toward what for sobering astonishment?
No choice beyond thy joyful worship due
Today not yesterday as here and now
And too to common sense again pursue
As if a future we could yet avow.
Perhaps the odds assemble much too great,
But private citadels yet laugh to bait.
Amsterdam
Lemuria/Ides of May ‘86 |
Sonnet #295
To find adieu’s oblivion within
Comfort’s shelter of youthhood’s solace sweet,
What endless sounds, what public shames and sin
Could yet, must yet return as karma’s meat?
In this magnificent mistake, like wine,
‘Tis children, unemerged from mystery,
Who yet most cross the threshold’s hidden line
To sip of wonder’s vintaged fantasy.
But growth’s adult bequeaths caricature
And confines fix in evermore descent,
Yet in life’s court without investiture
Does not our existential freedom vent?
No a priori standards setting course,
No predetermined role the final source.
Paris, San Francisco & between
23.9.88 – 1.10.88 |
Sonnet #296
By maggots must we measure not our goal,
By any unit b’low our holy self;
For tiresome parts and parcels give not whole
But rob us one and all through mortal stealth.
The only owner of whatever deed
Deciding value’s worth must be us all;
No special platitudes for some to heed
But not the lost beyond some fictive wall.
With separate identities we spoil
The game but waste the gift and miss the mark;
If you, me, them and we, then senseless toil
We keep without emerging from the dark.
The solitary flame in single heart
Alights the hidden shrined compassion’s part.
London
Larentalia 1988 |
Sonnet #298
All that is is, but all does not impend
Between what made the primal empty ill
And cosmic thermal engine’s silent end.
Exponents we of self-reflecting will
Transcending existential void’s ennui
For beauty which infuses human goal;
With worship we create divinity
That flies with us into a greater whole
As quiet rhythm ‘neath the passioned game.
This teasing ebb and flow of light and darks
Is that which anchors deeper souls’ sole aim
While crossing e’er ascending rainbow arcs.
If observation changes what’s observed,
Then veneration’s future has preserved.
Aups
16.9.90 |
Sonnet #216
To be completely happy, balanced too
And focused outward from the golden nest
Is destiny’s non-slated rendezvous
Which tallies nothing less than very best.
But looking inward where nothing’s wrong
But that exclusive selfish raptured peace
To find a needless but the would-be prong
Is letting be what makes the base but cease.
Yet husband-husband, husband-wife and wife
To husband, wife to wife as nuptial bliss
That most diurnal spans can span sans strife
Makes darkest days no less the genesis.
For love like light may have her counterpart
And yet no rupture bests the bonded heart.
Amsterdam
25.9.74 |
Two Sonnets -1
Shall ne’er be nothing nor eternal be
But solace seek within by wand’ring sev’n,
Though home be lost and we the refugee
Far, far beyond these rings approaching heav’n.
Strange creature of the one and many more
Who let sweet comfort’s shawl in nescience blind
Forgetting fortune’s tease for petty score
Who knows not oft of youth’s hope nor deed of kind.
If we could watch the cosmic bang alight,
The instability of vacuum’s tone,
The shorter than our comprehension’s might,
We’d be what we are not ourselves to own.
Still joys abound by every lot’s decress
When freedom’s found between futility. |
Two Sonnets -2
Desert not dignity when dawn declines
But turn to beauty when free time allows,
For in this grab-bag’s greed and ego mine,
Chart still the course that quiet charm endows!
The foe be ignorance, pollution, waste
Who teach the multitude of small and weak,
But dare authority to question chaste
For tolerant imagination’s chic!
In home, friend, neighbor and community
First find the giving self to undertake
Alone through rural crowd or urban lea
Or bonded band gods’ garden to awake!
None’s spared the night of death, though some disease,
But each could ‘come a star of splendor’s ease. |
Sonnet #280
Let’s have for now that deathless dance of old
When kiss is joy and not a turn for fear,
And entertainment laughs the times of gold!
Forgetting not the simple rites of cheer,
A quiet sunlit oak beside a spring,
The root-source touch our merry friends adore.
Let prisons empty, serfdom cease, and wing
Aloft the olive’s lazy warrior,
That gifts and thanks become the primal aim!
What happy birthing days should surely be
When world and man their lost and light reclaim,
Each soul I would my arms enfold, then free.
But brief Saturnus’ reign when Shiva’s dies,
To shame the dream so solitary flies.
Aups
Saturnalia 1985 |
Sonnet 288
Shall ne'er be nothing nor eternal be
But solace seek within by wand'ring sev'n,
Though home be lost and we the refugee
Far, far beyond these rings approaching heav'n.
Strange creature of the one and many more
Who let sweet comfort's shawl in nescience blind
Forgetting fortune's tease for petty score
Who knows not oft youth's hope nor deed of kind.
If we could watch the cosmic bang alight,
The instability of vacuum's tone,
The shorter than our comprehension's might,
We'd be what we are not ourselves to own.
Still joys abound by every lot's decree
When freedom's found between futility.
Aups
11 July 1987 |
Sonnet 289
Desert not dignity when dawns decline
But turn to beauty when free time allows,
For in this grab-bag's greed and ego mine,
Chart still the course that quiet charm endows!
The foe be ignorance, pollution, waste
Who teach the multitude of small and weak,
But dare authority to question chaste
For tolerant imagination's chic!
In home, friend, neighbor and community
First find the giving self to undertake
Alone through rural crowd or urban lea
Or bonded band gods' garden to awake!
None's spared the night of death, though some disease,
But each could 'come a star of splendor's ease.
Aups
14 July 1987 |
Sonnet 290
I'm still alive and pray that you be too
Whom memory consigns by western shore
While mirth's son wends mod medieval rue
In seeking muses' might and cult's encore.
How many years have turned our spirit ways
From furtive interlock of eyes' delight
To endless separation's increased maze
And mended meanings in a meanless flight?
Regrets? No more. For youth's now others' dream.
But undertake earth's testy tyrannies
Our lost adventure's ashes to redeem
As we glide through into maturities!
Catch credit as the catholic citizen
And keep to life though ne'er we meet again!
Aix-en-Provence
I Lucaria 1987 |
Sonnet 291
Sun styles to soothe spasmodic midgard’s peace
And ease cicadas’ ceaseless drumfire drone,
To win again an elven mead’s caprice
And venal plosions in and out disown:
Let solar kisses come as healing balm
And desiccate irruptive slime’s disease
Which plunders land and love clean fiat’s calm
But can alone stealth’s righteous poison please!
In Titan’s soul must merge our largest wish
Against the meanly lot’s decrepitude
And silence those who would impoverish
The winning race’s human magnitude.
From light heliacal be not deterred
But shine this smile b’yond both sick and absurd!
Aix-en-Provence
20 July 1987 |
Sonnet 292
Dawn dreams’ hued prelude to horizon’s frown
As croissants china glossed fast’s break do house
White coffee mists do paint morn upside down
Fain quick’ning garden sprite come to arouse
Auroral song caress the warming glow
While dancing dews do gleam to sight unseen
In raptured rush toward aural vertigo
Wakes daily forces life’s lost to convene
E’er matins rites repeat the promise made
In expectation’s confidence sweet wage:
By man whose light begins full promenade;
To man by wonders which prime worth engage.
No moment’s more the megacosmic door:
Daybreak: no time but this includes no more.
Aix-en-Provence
II Lucaria 1987 |
Sonnet 293
Erst earth the mother most repudiate
As if a sleepless shade selachian
Might not be goal to imbecilitate
But one transcendent by comparison.
Wide world, is now apocalypse in mode
As we pell-mell the nuclear approach;
Do cabalistic lambs the peace corrode
And legions fundamentalist here poach?
Telluric matrix of the human leap
That goes as far as smiling will elects
Still last foundation for rewarding sleep
If space our beings’ form from time ejects.
But groves reclaimed and zones both rubbish free
Might gain again our land’s totality.
Aix-en-Provence
Neptunalia 1987 |
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Lithuanian Sonnets -1
O god of entrance/opportunity!
O god of intoxication’s sweet enchant!
O hidden harvest’s concealed deity!
O god of buried lightning bolt’s incant!
O opulent dear goddess, earth’s deep wealth!
O god of turning changes/flowing time!
O salve, salve, salve, hail and health!
I sing primeval wood and sorry rhyme
My pantheon among ancestral source,
No song by cold and golden bay of old
Within an ancient unforgotten course,
But here comes leave for standing home and bold:
Blueberries wild beneath my weary feet,
Patina’d dreams now charm the wishing beat!
Plateliai
16.8.94 |
Lithuanian Sonnets -2
Why reproduction as a family form,
And why disguise the feeding tube by arts,
Still eat, conform or serve another norm
Remaining no less dwarfed by gainless marts?
Why flimsy answers mostly mark our floor,
What options few for parents numbed by love,
Though sober minds alone shall see not more
But only know the bitter wind above?!?
That thrill of lusty mimicry has long
Departed from the moonlit water’s edge,
While pregnant nights of promised dawning song
Have passed to newer youth’s deceiving wedge.
So should we sound the final whining choke
Or stand together all to go for broke?
Vilnius/Frankfurt
22.8.94
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