B. Royce

The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

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The last three were very touching, especially the last--given my experience in the last month and a half. I've been doing good but I suffered a loss around the beginning, so these kind of remind that all is indeed good, despite by secret angry silent screams.

Thanks!

Jose Gainza.

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The last three were very touching, especially the last--given my experience in the last month and a half. I've been doing good but I suffered a loss around the beginning, so these kind of remind that all is indeed good, despite by secret angry silent screams.

Thanks!

Jose Gainza.

Well, I'm glad, Jose. Yes, all bad things come to an end.

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Thank you Stephen Speicher, for your unbreakable optimism.

A Full Cup

O light of eyes of future faces,

Yea, what a cheering gleam!

And there you stand, in open spaces,

Masters of Ayn Rand's dream.

But we, today, we are not lacking;

Optimists will prevail.

There's many falsehoods needing sacking,

But then, they're born to fail.

For happy men still cast their voices,

Stride their strides, look far;

The self-made self in them rejoices,

Echoing moon to star.

____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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I just read this strange phrase---"consolidate out"--- in the economic thread.

Consolidate in,

Consolidate out;

Consolidate left,

Consolidate right;

Consolidate up,

Consolidate down;

Consolidate end,

Consolidate start;

Consolidate---apart?

_____________________

B.F.

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Most Real (for she who is)

Your eyes are like no other eyes;

Like yours, no other lips;

Your perfect face a perfect place

For dawn's lit fingertips.

Your beaming brow the moon has seen,

And copies, vain and weak,

And rose more fair not anywhere

Is found to match your cheek.

On earth, in sky, through all between,

In vision, picture, dream,

No line or hue compares to you,

All substances but seem.

Yes, seem to be, seem to stand,

While you're solidified.

I clasp your shoulders hand to hand

And Real goes undenied.

__________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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The Abstract Lover

"I'll not desire," he said,

"The woman of my dreams,

Till I've explored her head

And find just what it means.

"And then, when all is clear,

And we've been certified,

I'll bear in bed my dear

With sex that's dignified."

She came upon his sight

At an unexpected time;

Desire flamed to height;

He fought it as a crime.

He turned him, looked away,

Closed his eyes and thought,

"Relationship---more than a day;

Marriage---it should be sought."

He turned around and said,---

Nothing, for she had fled.

_____________________________

Brian Faulkner

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I Belong

A crow and a seagull lift up the sun

With "Caw!" and a bright white wing.

Swift cars wheel round the shopping ground;

I hear their motors sing.

New steaming clouds from canneries rise,

Their growing billows pillowing skies.

What a great delight to see and hear

The work of nature and man so clear.

Who would disown it, who'd say nay,

To the joy of being on this beautiful day?

Not I; I love it, love it strong;

This is the Eden where I belong.

___________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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I Must Sing

I do love you more than anything on earth;

Each breath, within your presence, feels like spring.

I'd speak to you love's noblest words of worth,

But can't; life swells and swells till I must sing.

You walk across the floor and stun my eyes---

They cannot look away, far-off or near;

You spin into my arms like shooting skies,

Loud-laughing while I'm kissing sphere on sphere.

The beauty of your mouth's a glorious deed;

Your passion through it purchases my will.

I spend and spend and spend, I am all greed;

You take me wholly while I fill and fill.

There is some height of life, I surely know,

That none may view and leave, and not be sad.

But we leave not, we seize it high and low,

And until life be death our love of it be glad.

________________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Brian:

Below are your poems reproduced in quoations and after each stanza is my understanding of what the stanzas mean. I expect that you know exactly what you are saying with each word you use. And so let me know if I miss your meaning.

"I do love you more than anything on earth;

Each breath, within your presence, feels like spring.

I'd speak to you love's noblest words of worth,

But can't; life swells and swells till I must sing."

That’s nice. Being in the beloved’s presence makes each breath a welcoming pleasure so that he is pressured to breathe more than usual. So he silently breathes and contemplates until he must sing—not talk.

"You walk across the floor and stun my eyes---

They cannot look away, far-off or near;

You spin into my arms like shooting skies,

Loud-laughing while I'm kissing sphere on sphere."

I have trouble with this one: how does a shooting sky look? I can picture a woman spinning across a dance floor, so swift and gracefully, that all one sees isa blur. Kissing sphere on sphere means mouth to mouth, I gather.

"The beauty of your mouth's a glorious deed;

Your passion through it purchases my will.

I spend and spend and spend, I am all greed;

You take me wholly while I fill and fill."

Her kisses are glorious that they come to own the man. And yet it is reciprocal because HE spends and spends greedily. The last line suggests to me that they are struggling, in battle, in their kissing.

"There is some height of life, I surely know,

That none may view and leave, and not be sad.

But we leave not, we seize it high and low,

And until life be death our love of it be glad."

Why would the viewers leave sad? Is it because they can’t have what these two have? By the third line I start to believe that they are all alone and the only one’s viewing. And it is not going to be a sad departing ending; they leave not. They promise to be married and therefore the sight will leave no viewer sad, not them and no one else.

Jose.

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Brian:

Below are your poems reproduced in quoations and after each stanza is my understanding of what the stanzas mean. I expect that you know exactly what you are saying with each word you use. And so let me know if I miss your meaning.

"I do love you more than anything on earth;

Each breath, within your presence, feels like spring.

I'd speak to you love's noblest words of worth,

But can't; life swells and swells till I must sing."

That’s nice. Being in the beloved’s presence makes each breath a welcoming pleasure so that he is pressured to breathe more than usual. So he silently breathes and contemplates until he must sing—not talk.

"You walk across the floor and stun my eyes---

They cannot look away, far-off or near;

You spin into my arms like shooting skies,

Loud-laughing while I'm kissing sphere on sphere."

I have trouble with this one: how does a shooting sky look? I can picture a woman spinning across a dance floor, so swift and gracefully, that all one sees isa blur. Kissing sphere on sphere means mouth to mouth, I gather.

"The beauty of your mouth's a glorious deed;

Your passion through it purchases my will.

I spend and spend and spend, I am all greed;

You take me wholly while I fill and fill."

Her kisses are glorious that they come to own the man. And yet it is reciprocal because HE spends and spends greedily. The last line suggests to me that they are struggling, in battle, in their kissing.

"There is some height of life, I surely know,

That none may view and leave, and not be sad.

But we leave not, we seize it high and low,

And until life be death our love of it be glad."

Why would the viewers leave sad? Is it because they can’t have what these two have? By the third line I start to believe that they are all alone and the only one’s viewing. And it is not going to be a sad departing ending; they leave not. They promise to be married and therefore the sight will leave no viewer sad, not them and no one else.

Jose.

In the first stanza he is not "pressured to breathe more than usual"; rather, this is but one aspect of his fuller awareness of the greater meaning of his simplest physical being which he experiences when in her presence. He feels so fully bursting with life that he must sing.

In the second stanza the shooting skies are merely the sky with shooting stars, which move fast, unexpected---a sudden surprise! He kisses her eyes, those spheres of light-giving life. Obviously, he can't be kissing her mouth while she is laughing.

In the third stanza her mouth is like a glorious deed in that there is courage and boldness in its shape, in what it seeks, and the open and fearless manner of its seeking. There is no struggle, no battle; there is but the fullness of passionate peace in mutual gain and pleasure.

In stanza four all who would view such a height of life and love as this, and turn away from or reject it, must necessarily be sad their whole lives through. But he and she are not of those. Where do you get "promise to be married" out of this? They are not suddenly cerebral and stepping back. In this setting marriage is irrelevant. The "viewers" are not viewing these two people here, but have viewed themselves, and either accepted or rejected. These two, having seized the whole of what they value, have the reward of gladness---happiness---their entire lives.

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Thanks to Stephen for the "lurking under the bed" from the theocracy thread.

Almighty God

I woke up at dawn to chirpings and light

And knew I was done with the gloom of night.

Though God was still lurking under my bed,

My bounce of joy filled him with dread.

When in happy thought I boldly stood,

God shrivelled up like a dumb fruit should!

_____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Thanks to Stephen for the "lurking under the bed" from the theocracy thread.

Almighty God

I woke up at dawn to chirpings and light

And knew I was done with the gloom of night.

Though God was still lurking under my bed,

My bounce of joy filled him with dread.

When in happy thought I boldly stood,

God shrivelled up like a dumb fruit should!

_____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

Correction: Stephen's "lurking" is in the 'Peikoff on the coming election' thread.

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I Sing

I sing 'cause I'm alive to sing,

And song is life in me.

I sing the joy of everything

That's strong and proud and free.

That tower rising through the open sky,

That young man, looking from below

(He'll every star and fate and fear defy----

He's thought, with hands on, to go);

Someone climbing up the highest mountain,

Steel wings veering into space,

Lovers searching for the youthful fountain

And finding, beaming, face to face;

The work and strain and toil of every day

To plan, to build, to sell, to make it pay,

Then turn around and do it all again

For love of piling gain on gain on gain!

The clasp of truth, the action of "just",

The syllable spoken----Yes----that avows the right,

The altruist insects pressed into the dust,

Each real man standing in his lone grand height.

I sing 'cause I'm alive to sing,

And song is life in me.

I sing the joy of everything

That's strong and proud and free!

_____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Thirty-five years ago I was gladly awakened at five in the morning by hundreds of irrepressibly cheerful sparrrows cheeping in the trees all around my park bench in lower Manhattan. This morning, at a similar time, some dozens more were at my open window.

Right

A cluster of sparrows under my window

Chirp up impetuous delight.

There's no note of failing,

No woebegone wailing,

Just chattering gladness for light.

False sirens of sorrow may come here tomorrow,

Lost storms may come puffing to fight,

But life, in free gladness,

Here halters down sadness,

And bursts with the beauty of right.

___________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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"Don't Be Selfish"

He hogged the ball,

Took shot after shot;

He made them all,

His coach was hot.---

"Our team did win

Because of sin,

And now you're through,

You selfish you."

The team's next game

Was void of bliss;

In selfless shame

Each shot did miss.

But Coach was cool,

He was no fool.---

"I've got my dream:

A sensitive team."

_____________________

Brian Faulkner

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Song Of The Selfish Player

I'm never here to lose,

I'm always here to win;

To shoot or pass I'll choose,

'Pending on the spot I'm in.

And yes, if I am hot,

And grooving in "the zone",

Give me the ball a lot;

I'll win this game alone.

I'm selfish to the core,

I pass to be on top;

Man's open down the floor---

Throw! we never stop!

"Take charge, high self assert",

That is my teammates' cry.

A selfless team would hurt,

But we're a team of "I"!

I guard, I block, I steal,

I find the open man;

A swish! we seal the deal!

We'll take whate'er we can.

Then comes the ball to me,

I'm forty feet away;

Right through the rim, we see

I've got my touch today!

We're selfish in each soul,

We play to be on top;

A healthy, high-five whole,

Let I-ball never stop!

___________________________

Brian Faulkner

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These last two basketball poems were quite enjoyable, not only because they are good and thematically original, but because they represent an interesting coincidence, and will help me in a way.

The other day I was thinking about this same issue in prose fiction, and in the context of another ball sport. The idea is to show morality and particular virtues in the actions of a particular sports game, playing with those ideas later, when the real story unfolds.

Keep it up, Magic!

Jose Gainza.

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Brothers

The milk of Mother Man is white,

It feeds men in their growing.

The milk of Mother Nature's black,

It yearns the joy of flowing.

The milk of a mother moves life in its giving,

Else nowise is worthy or sweet.

The oil of nature must gush for the living,

Else waste in a pool, incomplete.

The children of women are children of earth,

And children must take of their mothers.

Their liquids of love are noble in worth,

And bright milk and dark oil are brothers.

The milk of Mother Man is white,

It gives to men their power.

The milk of Mother Nature's black,

Machines and cities flower.

____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Proudly

Peering out joyfully, seeking new energy,

Proudly I sing of me---I, who am proud.

First is reality, signing on reverently;

Second, the mind of me, singing, "Oh come!"

Thirdly, I'm thinking---deep plans for my destiny;

Next, the hard action, relentlessly done.

Time then for questions that rise while I'm resting

(Scouting out heroes in marble, full gaze,

Hearing sweet melodies dancing on, breasting,

Sky-shearing towers, sun-clasping, ablaze!)

Thoughtful sincerity sharpens the voice of me,

And logic's philosophy's womanly might.

Knowledge stands innocent, laughing so nakedly;

Signing-on Universe, you are all mine!

Glorying inwardly, finding new energy,

Proudly I sing of me---I, who am proud.

_______________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Flutterguys

Fantastic, tumble-wise, yellow-fancy butterflies

Catch our better glances of summertime's show.

Thunderfully bright they are, and wonderfully silent are,

Sparkling flit-rainbows of foot-chase delight.

Free away sailing now, caught by wind's waving now,

Fluttering spin leafy-like over high trees,

Tumble-wise butterflies, fanatic full flutter-guys,

Come here tomorrow-wise, please, please, please!

______________________________________________

Brian Faulkner

Check out my new childrens' book on the market thread.

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Sunlight Is Flowing

Sunlight is flowing o'er everything growing,

Rising with joy to be everything showing:

Grasses and bushes and flowers and trees,

Grasshoppers, butterflies, black bumblebees;

Horses and cattle and kittens and dogs,

Apples and oranges and ciders and grogs;

Fields of alfalfa, potatoes and wheat,

Sowers and reapers who work to complete

All that is possible under their feet;

Railroaders, truckers, and vendors in town,

Talking and selling and spreading around

Trade that is building up Profit, the king,

Towering higher with wires that sing

For businessmen, thinkers, and doers, who steer

Glass-sheeted rationals into the clear.

Sunlight is flowing o'er everything growing,

Rising with joy to be everything showing:

Cities and industries glittering sound,

Highways and bridges "that-a-way" bound!

Wheatfields, cornfields, everywhere found,

Coalmines and goldmines under the ground;

And deep into mountains white tunnels slice sweet

For cattle-filled trains and their stackings of meat;

And truckloads of merchandise heading to stores

For dreamers and buyers who march to the doors,

And seeing the "Sales!" of the bright-colored way,

Yank the doors wider to dance in and pay!

Sunlight is flowing o'er everything growing,

Rising with joy to be everything showing:

Men standing proud with their hands on their hips,

Watching the tide of the in-coming ships,

Or the swing of a hammer high up in air

As a master of girders slams one---"There!"

Or the clean thrust of steel parting a hill

For good men to pass and go where they will;

Or the climb up that hill of a lover of love,

Who sees beyond "great" where her lover's above.

Sunlight is flowing o'er everything growing,

Rising with joy to be everything showing:

Earth in its spinning, man in his winning,

Triumph unfurled binding the world!

________________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Happy Thanks

Happy thanks for happy people doing happy work to live;

With my glass of wine saluting, happy thanks to them I give.

Cheery thanks to cheery thinkers who produce the most they can,

Building up the world around them for the majesty of man;

Gleeful thanks for gleeful cities with their shops of sparkling light,

And my thanks for slender towers winking thoughtfully through night;

Hearty thanks for heavy tables full of turkies, stuffing, pies,

And that look of proudest loving in a mother's smiling eyes;

Thanks in earnest for the farmers who have beautified the earth

With their measured rows of science flowing musically in worth;

Thanks of praise for true philosophers, whose principles lead on

All the men whose mighty industry bestows a brighter dawn.

Happy thanks for happy people doing happy work to live;

With my flowing glass saluting, happy thanks to them I give.

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I wrote this a couple of years ago when thinking about changing the name of Christmas.

Midas Day

High Midas Day is on its way,

High Midas Day is near;

With aim of gold, things bought and sold,

For target Joy we steer.

Hard faces bright, shrewd eyes a-light,

We shoppers scour the mall.

Jeweled gifts to make for this year's take

We'll find, and rake in all.

To sate desire of Man---the Buyer---

Proud shops and markets stand.

Who trade would win may enter in

And gaze on all things grand.

With wages won for work well done

We step up close to find---

That Perfect Prize, that Light Of Eyes,

That Mirrored Aim Of Mind!

Our piles of dough, we love them so---

The jingling, crinkling bliss;

And goods held tight in owners' right

Is like a Midas kiss.

And so we say on Midas Day,

"Our gift of life's not luck;

We made our dough, we traded, oh!

And bull's eye Joy is struck!"

_________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Here's an old western poem of mine.

My Everything

I was sittin' one mornin' out under the blue,

Sittin' an' dreamin' an' thinkin' of you.

A dove flew by pure white as snow,

An' I said "Yipee! I love you so!"

Then I got up an' rode all over the town,

People goin' to work, cars spinnin' aroun';

Heard a glad song on the radio

An' I said "Yipee! I love you so!"

When I sit, when I ride, when I think, when I sing,

Got a beat for you like a bell---ding ding!

When I stop at a store's grand opening

You're all in all my everything!

I was playin' at two with a steer in the dirt;

A-rollin' all over, he nearly got hurt;

But a big dark cloud roared "Let him go!"

An' I said "Yipee! I love you so!"

Then I got up an' trudged through the mud an' the rain

(My horse had run off o'er the windy plain).

A mule came by, though somewhat slow,

An' I said "Yipee! I love you so!"

When I play, when I roll, when I work, when I sing,

My heart's for you bibidee-bob-bob-bing.

When I grab my hat an' give it wing------

You're all in all my everything!

I was ridin' one ev'n out under the moon,

Ridin' an' drinkin' an' thinkin' of you;

The stars ran roun' like a rodeo

An' I said "Yipee! I love you so!"

Went on back to my shack an' I pulled out a book;

Read a poem 'bout Eve, for you mistook;

Then a line leaped up, was mine, I know,

For it said "Yipee! I love you so!"

When I ride, when I drink, when I spur, when I sing,

This cowboy knows that you're his queen;

When I look at a book like a poet king

You're all in all my everything!

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