B. Royce

The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

1,154 posts in this topic

Thanks, Zak. Now, what does "get with the times" mean? :)
Not sure, really: Urban Dictionary doesn't have an entry for that. (If it makes you feel any better, I had no idea what ROFLMOA meant and just looked it up out of curiousity. :angry2:)

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I suppose this might be called a prose poem.

The Selfish Human Soul

Silently the selfish human soul

soars through the universe,

seeking all there is of singing happiness.

Silent are his hand-beats and silent his pasage.

Curiously the selfish soul sweeps to a planet,

then stops and looks around. He sees a man.

The man is alone in a field working on a tractor.

The tractor had quit, but the man doesn't.

Bending over the tractor's motor, his hands active,

the man begins to whistle as he works.

Silently, the selfish human soul trembles in anticipation,

and suddenly the man shouts, "I've got it!"

And he stamps the earth and rears back laughing.

Silently the selfish huiman soul smiles, a happy smile.

And he looks again and he sees a woman

sitting at a desk writing a story---

about a man who overcomes all obstacles

through ingenious hard work and courage,

using his sacred tool, his rationally focused mind,

and the soul of selfishness leaps about

from moon to planet, ecstatically glad.

Then he stops and peers down again

and lo, he sees and hears something

terribly bad, horrifically evil.

A man, a father, is telling his young son

that there are no real heroes in the world,

because men don't show enough pity for the weak

and don't give enough mercy to the unlucky bad guys.

The passionate soul of selfishness grabs that man

and throws him out into the darkest regions of space,

and the boy watches as his father flies

and shrinks away into nothing.

And the sullen, resentful anger he felt toward his father

slowly dissipates, and his budding sense of justice,

of the bad guys getting what they deserve

and the heroic lovers of truth winning, strengthens,

till something hard and gold settles in his mind forever.

And the soul of selfishness soars up into the stars,

dances across the universe, alive and happy and blessed,

singing all there is of singing happiness,

praising all there is of happy competence,

being all there is of hope and triumph,

thought and effort, dream and justice!

Then silently the splendid, selfish, sensible human soul

just soars and soars and soars.

____________________________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Selfishly I Blink

How selfishly I blink my eyes to see

When morning sun does stand upon our bed,

And full of self, so wholly happily,

I turn to watch you sink, you sleepyhead.

Two very selfish lovers, yes, are we,

Who love our sleeping more than all who live,

And by our waking light of certainty

Ensure ourselves sex-holy nights to give.

Ah, sun, go off, go down, pass on,

And let the day be ever-ling'ring dawn,

For under-selfishness can never be

While lovers two are true as she and me.

And now I dream to see her open eyes,

And day is real and selfish very wise.

_____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Full Ahead

They said I was self-centered, I was;

Absorbed in my own thinking, I was;

Had little time for others, I'd not;

The handi-capped forgotten, forgot!

To suffering was blinded, I was;

To evil was merciless, I was;

Saw earth as my backyard, I did;

Saw using earth as right, I did.

They said I was inhuman, I'm not;

They said that I was guilty, I'm not;

They said they hated freedom, they do;

They said, "We're coming after YOU."

The mindless are on the move, get ready;

Be selfish---now, full ahead; hold steady!

___________________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Selfishly I Blink

How selfishly I blink my eyes to see

When morning sun does stand upon our bed,

And full of self, so wholly happily,

I turn to watch you sink, you sleepyhead.

Two very selfish lovers, yes, are we,

Who love our sleeping more than all who live,

And by our waking light of certainty

Ensure ourselves sex-holy nights to give.

Ah, sun, go off, go down, pass on,

And let the day be ever-ling'ring dawn,

For under-selfishness can never be

While lovers two are true as she and me.

And now I dream to see her open eyes,

And day is real and selfish very wise.

_____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

I really love this, Brian. So uplifting and happy!

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Selfishly I Blink

How selfishly I blink my eyes to see

When morning sun does stand upon our bed,

And full of self, so wholly happily,

I turn to watch you sink, you sleepyhead.

Two very selfish lovers, yes, are we,

Who love our sleeping more than all who live,

And by our waking light of certainty

Ensure ourselves sex-holy nights to give.

Ah, sun, go off, go down, pass on,

And let the day be ever-ling'ring dawn,

For under-selfishness can never be

While lovers two are true as she and me.

And now I dream to see her open eyes,

And day is real and selfish very wise.

_____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

I really love this, Brian. So uplifting and happy!

Thank you, Aurelia. I'm glad you've enjoyed it.

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The Great High Way

Others thank God on Thanksgiving Day,

I thank the man who paves a highway---

A highway of knowledge seeking stars,

Circling our planet, landing on Mars;

A highway of beauty, bursting with song,

A high light way without any wrong;

A high way of working day in and day out,

Without slowing down or turning about.

Others do pray on Thanksgiving Day,

I say "Yea!" to each great high way!

A high way of love for all men achieve,

And no false liking for luck they believe;

A high way of courage that lone men ride,

Their selfish dreams their sovereign guide;

A high way of truth, based upon fact,

That speeds along with each open act;

A highway inventive, perspiring, tired,

Rejuvenated, with new goals fired!

Others do bow on Thanksgiving Day,

I step out on the great high way!

___________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Lot-Man

O joyous Love-Of-Things Day,

O LOT Day, coming near,

I've bought a lot

To give a lot,

To lots of friends so dear.

And lots are coming my way,

Of flashing things so good,

And in a lot

I'll take a lot,

Like every Lot-man should.

For I'm a Lot-man, it is true,

I love a lot the things I do;

I love a lot of each live day

I work a lot for my loved pay.

I plan a lot for coming dawn,

With lots of profits piling on;

I think a lot 'bout doing right

For all my keenest joys so white;

And then I stand with hands on hips,

A smile of pride upon my lips;

I see a lot of things around

That men have stood up on the ground,

A lot of towers, lots of cars,

And lots of spaceships aimed for Mars;

A lot of music moves me, whole,

And fills me lots with beauty's soul,

And lots of lines of happy poems

Come skipping through from sunny tomes,

And inspiration, lots on lots,

Grabs me with its perkling plots,

Till I, a real-man, sing my praise

To Merry Lot-mas all my days!

O Merry Lot-mas, made by men,

Bring them lots of joy again!

And Merry Lot-man, man that's me,

Make your lot prosperity!

____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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I have made a few improvements in this previously posted poem.

Wherever Eyes of Yearning

Wherever eyes of yearning gaze up into eyes

of yearning taking, all time's hours stop,

And falsehood's hands may cover no bare fact,

nor any modesty whip passion back,

But he, lead chutist, soars freely

into rushing earth, to feign no more of fear

And dream no more of fate.

The stirring grasses sigh into the heart

as all that's selfless dies.

It lies so joyfully with death

the passioned chantings of a flashing bird

Change to elation every banished word

and all that's selfish flies!

Yes! and shall not we sing, too?

Only yesterday I knew your heart in mine;

I knew the truth of you.

A new intentness set to send us, too,

As one due day rides sunward,

and your eyes in my eyes soared into

A flowerwise chaining of unchained desire,

a flaunting, high conspiracy

That saw no end of time.

We were as trees are, apart, yet rooted

not to earth but to our strange brows shining,

Glad with fire and sweet with sight.

A brighter radiance shone in May not ever,

A cleaner air or a purer rain;

made of our thoughts severe high beams together,

Caught up our hearts in a jest of pain.

Then marrow rang! Then breath departed!

for only Delight there fanned and sped.

"Round every flower a freed wind wended,

bent the petals from head to head.

Between bold boughs strong gold descended,

and in young leaves old dreams arose.

High swirling grasses sprang up to our thighs

and brushed the veins of Paradise.

Darkness saw your rare long hair wrap 'round him

and knew not darkness, saw dewy lightness

Sing upon your shoulders, rang out his joy,

and died.

Aye, I, too, I, too, knew lightness,

searing lightness of strained desire,

And like a half-wet flame I laughed aloud

to see a gentle tree lean out to me,

A yearning, stretching, smiling tree,

now all aflame as I.

Arms and branches swing into the sky

and touch away the sunlight as a cloud.

Leaves and faces seek each other's places,

gaze on hidden spaces and entwine.

Now four curling hands of fire

rake lightning through the pyre,

Uproot the tree Desire and pull the woodman down!

The swirling grasses, flowing,

Grow high red storms of knowing,

learn love that leaps up glowing

And is unbound!

All over eyes of flowers the lover's eye devours,

devours all time's hours, devours space and light;

And where Love's breath flows sighing

the soul of death goes dying,

The fate of Fate is flying,

and burning Day is bright!

_________________________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Here is a light poem which I have re-done, keeping to a stricter rhythm.

Tiddliwink

Tiddliwink does step the grass,

Bats a wink at curls that pass.

Tiddliwink then twirls around,

Happy in the world he's found.

Tiddliwink then dances, light,

Twinkledee him sees---a sight!

Tiddliwink and Twinkledee,

Twirling, swirling, oh so free!

Blue to black eyes, black to blue,

Pass their dreamings, catch them, too!

Far from sadness, lost from pain,

Tiddli-Twinkle break the chain!

Tin cans kick they, stones let fly,

Whisk on waters, skip so high!

Trees they climb a-top the ridge,

Awed with trucks that leap the bridge!

Tiddli now forgets his Twink,

In his future he does drink;

Cares not Twinkle, she thinks, too;

Years of sunsprays splash on through.

Tiddliwink now swings to earth;

Twink fall-follows, but not hurt.

Twinkle, lying out so fair,

Tiddli grows up man right there.

Birds 'gin sing, sing winds at ease;

Sings the earth for loves like these!

Tiddli-Twinkle, matched with sun,

Catch the meaning: light has won!

____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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My Christmas Eve

I've got one thing for Christmas time

That I've had all the year---

The Christmas lights of your two eyes

Whenever you appear.

The sweetest, softest tinsel known

Hangs golden down your head,

While all the songs of lasting joy

Are every word you've said.

I have unwrapped you o'er and o'er,

My present without cease;

De-ribboned on the tissued floor

I clasp my Christmas Eve.

_________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Bailing With An Axe

On merciless ocean the nation is rolling,

With a hole in the bottom, to boot.

With frantic attacks we bail with an axe

And ready our guns to shoot.

The hole gets bigger and we can't figger

Why we should be sinking fast.

We've boosted taxes and mugged the Captain

Of Industry, tied him to the mast.

"Bail!" we cry, "Bail out or die!"

And with axes we bail to save.

"Now shoot", says one, "We won't be safe

Till First Mate Truth's in his grave."

The nation sinks, the ocean roars,

The hole gets bigger, reality pours.

_____________________________________

Brian Faulkner

I enjoyed this. Very clever.

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My Christmas Eve

I've got one thing for Christmas time

That I've had all the year---

The Christmas lights of your two eyes

Whenever you appear.

The sweetest, softest tinsel known

Hangs golden down your head,

While all the songs of lasting joy

Are every word you've said.

I have unwrapped you o'er and o'er,

My present without cease;

De-ribboned on the tissued floor

I clasp my Christmas Eve.

_________________________________

Brian Faulkner

I love this poem. It's soooo romantic!

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My Christmas Eve

I've got one thing for Christmas time

That I've had all the year---

The Christmas lights of your two eyes

Whenever you appear.

The sweetest, softest tinsel known

Hangs golden down your head,

While all the songs of lasting joy

Are every word you've said.

I have unwrapped you o'er and o'er,

My present without cease;

De-ribboned on the tissued floor

I clasp my Christmas Eve.

_________________________________

Brian Faulkner

I love this poem. It's soooo romantic!

Thank you, Mary. I'm glad you find it sooo. :)

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Blow Softly, Now

That Christmas candle in your hand

Has led us to this height

Where we alone together stand

And bid the day goodnight.

The handle's turned, the door goes wide,

And breathless step we in,

To celebrate our lives of pride

And all we've done and been.

Blow softly, now, the candle out,

Blow light, and let it go;

The moon is full with quiet shout

And I would have you so.

Sweet stars gleam through the window, too,

To see what here is done:

Two beings who bear love so true

Spear into sphere that's one.

________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Some short pieces.

Winter's Smile

Happy Fall has stripped the trees half bare;

Happier roof-tops gold hand-me-downs wear;

Happiest Wind laughs fast with naked blast!

Winter's smile is a long long while.

_____________________________________

Up

Up cup to my lips,

My overflowing darling.

Down set fingertips.

Switch off the last light;

Let treasured rest be 'nough.

Measure the pleasure.

_____________________________

Earth rushes on back;

Into white-dot black we go!

Hi-Ho to high/low.

_____________________________

Deep space, our leap place---

Place to reap for me and you.

Do it! No disgrace.

__________________________

Love, some say, is light,

It sparkles on up the mind.

Sad goes slow away.

________________________

Sunlight blazes, free!

Blazes you in me!

Crazy, blazing sunlight we!

__________________________

Blow, Wind

Blow, wind, blow out all my words.

They again shall rise

In someone's lightning eyes.

Cold, come, pack them into ice.

Someone's tongue shall ting

And speak out Spring.

Winter, wrap them within gloom,

Hide them out of sight.

"Find"----someone's delight.

______________________________

Shadows tell me, tell me what?

Tell me shadows tell me not.

Nothing has a shade to say;

Lost in night he dies away.

Sunrays tell me, tell me this:

Tell me sunrays shadows miss.

Missing shadows all the day,

Yet they're never far away.

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Blow Softly, Now

That Christmas candle in your hand

Has led us to this height

Where we alone together stand

And bid the day goodnight.

The handle's turned, the door goes wide,

And breathless step we in,

To celebrate our lives of pride

And all we've done and been.

Blow softly, now, the candle out,

Blow light, and let it go;

The moon is full with quiet shout

And I would have you so.

Sweet stars gleam through the window, too,

To see what here is done:

Two beings who bear love so true

Spear into sphere that's one.

________________________________

Brian Faulkner

Love this one too, Brian. It's delightful.

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Blow Softly, Now

That Christmas candle in your hand

Has led us to this height

Where we alone together stand

And bid the day goodnight.

The handle's turned, the door goes wide,

And breathless step we in,

To celebrate our lives of pride

And all we've done and been.

Blow softly, now, the candle out,

Blow light, and let it go;

The moon is full with quiet shout

And I would have you so.

Sweet stars gleam through the window, too,

To see what here is done:

Two beings who bear love so true

Spear into sphere that's one.

________________________________

Brian Faulkner

Love this one too, Brian. It's delightful.

Thank you, Mary.

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Very High Midas Day

Oh, Very High Midas Day,

Now you are here,

Clothed in prosperity,

Best of the year.

Armfuls of laughter,

Lipfuls of light,

Eyes in affirmance

Of everything bright.

Ribbons are spreading and

Trees are a-glow;

Splendid the setting

Of Midas-Time show.

Down every avenue

Silver bells chime,

And choirs with drink-songs

Sing them in time.

Dollar-signs stand on

Rooftops for glee---

Red, green and gold ones,

And many swing free!

And Santas are shooting

From chimney to chim

(Helpers called Backpack,

Vigor and Vim).

Oh, all over town

There's a soft glowing fire

Of joys made real

For human desire.

Oh Very High Midas Day,

Face of our worth---

Proud of Prosperity,

Merchants of earth!

________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Well, let's do that again.

Very High Midas Day

Oh, Very High Midas Day,

Now you are here,

Clothed in prosperity,

Best of the year.

Armfuls of laughter,

Lipfuls of light,

Eyes in affirmance

Of everything bright.

Ribbons are spreading and

Trees are a-glow;

Splendid the setting

Of Midas-Time show.

Down every avenue

Silver bells chime,

While choirs of drink-songs

Clink them in time.

Dollar-signs stand on

Rooftops for glee----

Red, green and gold ones,

And many swing free!

And Santas are shooting

From chimney to chim

(Helpers called Backpack,

Vigor and Vim).

Here, a piano

Rolls to a door;

There, a mink stole

Lets hands go explore.

Here, a convertible,

Flashy and fast,

While lust-dust of diamonds

Everywhere's cast.

Peacefully beautiful,

Wholesome and rare,

Very High Midas Day,

Men made you fair.

Happy and satisfied,

Filled to the top,

All you could ever be

Never will stop.

Oh, all over town

There's a soft glowing fire

Of joys made real

For human desire.

Oh Very High Midas Day,

Face of our worth---

Proud of Prosperity,

Merchants of earth!

____________________________

Brian Faulkner

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Midas!

It is "Midas! Midas! Midas!" in the morning;

Will be "Midas! Midas! Midas! all the day!

There are presents on the floor,

They'll be coming through the door!

It is Midas! Midas! Midas! Yes, hooray!

Men of Midas, we are strong,

Working early, working long;

We are thinkers and inventors, and we act!

Men of Midas, we are brave,

And we put away and save,

Until a pile of profit is a fact!

It is now that glorious day

When we celebrate our way

Of making all we touch seem very gold;

And the gifts we love to give

To our loved ones, 'cause they live,

Are now waiting for some hands to hug and hold!

It is "Midas! Midas! Midas!" all the daytime;

Will be "Midas! Midas! Midas!" into night!

There are twinklings on the floor,

There'll be shinings through the door;

It is "Midas! Midas! Midas!" Hold me tight!

We are Santas in ourselves,

Or his working-spirit elves,

Who for pride of what we've done get up elate.

All our sleighs of yester-time

Were the hills we set to climb

Rolled to avalanch of riches unabate!

We are wading in a flood

Of our happy mental blood

That has taken "A is A" and used it well;

With our spirits that are free

We have grasped reality

Till creation is a self-controlling spell!

It is "Midas! Midas! Midas!" in the evening;

It is "Midas! Midas! Midas!" till we sleep!

Inspiration's at the read'

For the year that's up ahead,

And a crown of dreams the glory we will keep!

_____________________________________________

Brian Faulkner

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