The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner

[B. Royce 0]

Only This (1992)

I walk along the country white with blossoming,

But there is nothing anywhere for me.

The city that I love is very far, so far away,

And it is only this I want to see.

It rises in my mind and greets my craving eye

With power that is strong and proud and free.

Its gleaming glass and steel pass through me and I feel

Alive with every homeward step I take.

And down below there, the sound of triumph,

Roaring through the tunnels mightily.

But here, 'round me, only white blossoming,

And there is not a single man-made sound.

I walk along the country white with blossoming,

But there is nothing anywhere for me.

The city that I love is very far, so far away,

And it is only this I want to see.

Thousands of wires in thousands of cables,

I see them all winding along;

Energy hurrying, messages carrying,

Up to the men beyond.

Men with goods to sell----good men, I know you well,

Your faces hard as gold and just as fine.

And buyers strolling by, they try with sharpest eye

To spot a deal of profit-taking true.

And up above you your signs are shining,

Words of glowing pride and sovereignty.

But here, 'round me, only white blossoming,

And there is not a single sign of life.

I walk along the country white with blossoming,

But there is nothing anywhere for me.

The city that love is very far, so far away,

And it is only this I want to see.

________________________________________

My Pen Is Still (1962)

My pen is still,

The ink is dry;

The words have gone,

Have passed me by.

No poems am I to write today;

The will to write has fled away.

But don't be too sad if I don't sing;

Another day a song I'll bring.

The words I had that spoke of love,

Will come again, and soon, by Jove!

And into my fist my pen will fly,

And I'll list the words that passed me by,

And lush words of love at last I'll say,

And I'll make up for this empty day!

__________________________________

I Love (2003)

I love the leaves dancing in the air;

I love the sun catching women's hair;

I love the trains roaring into town;

I love the towers spiring all around.

I love the bright-faced shops with winking jewels displayed;

I love the factories stacking, proud of what they've made;

I love the city lights, the glass-cubed nights,

..........the dreams unsleeping that out-race the dawn;

I love my babe's first step, my boy's first job,

..........my girl of science thinking on and on;

I love good work, I love my life, I love this earth.

I love the clouds changing, gathering, blackening to storm;

I love the multitudes of thunder blasting deep, in form.

I love the daisies, dandelions, roses, silv'ry now with rain;

I love the fresh sweet smell of life when sunshafts shoot again.

I love the streets, lawns, fields and parks

Where children leap and swing----"Push, swing higher! Toe a leaf!"

I love the screams of wild delight----"Swing higher! See!"----that know no grief.

I love the hands that shape some clay into a laughing maze;

I love the mind that has its way----creative pride ablaze;

I love the singer singing sweeter, longer,

..........the song's words making hearts beat stronger;

I love the rugged tales of heroes undefeated

..........who battle on till everything's completed;

I love the peace at night in a quiet space;

I love the eyes of cheer in my mirror's face;

I love hard work, I love my life, I love this earth.

I love the trucks and cars, sputt-utt-purring in the morn;

I love the sparrows cheeping as if they'd just been born;

I love the ice in winter lying on the wires,

And the wires' strength that hardly ever tires;

I love the tree that stands alone, needing but dirt and sky;

I love the person who stands alone, who needs no others by;

I love the righteous will that does what it must do;

I love the self that chooses, and to itself is true;

I love my self, I love my flesh, I love this earth.

I love my competence, my striving to do better;

I love to think my best, speaking, writing song, poem or letter.

I love rewards for my good work; I love money, silver, gold;

I love the crinkle, jingle, clink for all I've bought and sold.

I love walking down the street, running up a hill,

..........tumbling on the grass, lying on the earth, breathing it in;

I love the feel of joy in thighs and chest and chin.

I love the truth, Im love the beautiful, I love reality;

I love logic, I love sight, I love love.

I love and I love and I love.

I love the child who wakes up singing;

Though shouts of "Quiet!" try to make him wrong,

He proudly leaves the house and fills the sky with song.

I love the girl who's judged just what she wants-----

No matter what the price, it is like gold,

Because her thinking makes it worth her hold.

I love the young man cashing his first check----

He knows he earned it, feels himself supreme,

And trust himself to realize every dream.

I love the man, the man who knows his worth;

His thoughts, his feelings, actions, all----his own;

All confidence, competence, efffort, gain, are in his mirror shown.

I love machines; each activating part

Precisely put together, like a heart

In smoothly-working perfect health

That beats and clicks and beats for wealth----

Wealth of power, speed and youth,

Accomplishing the highest truth,

The truth that's in the wheel sped----

Invention is man's fountainhead.

I love this pen that's in my hand;

I love this paper marked with ink;

I love the things I understand,

I love the thoughts I love to think.

I love the sky, I love myself, I love this earth;

I love and I love and I love.

__________________________________________

Brian Faulkner

[Stephen Speicher 0]

My Pen Is Still (1962)

My pen is still,

The ink is dry;

The words have gone,

Have passed me by.

No poems am I to write today;

The will to write has fled away.

But don't be too sad if I don't sing;

Another day a song I'll bring.

The words I had that spoke of love,

Will come again, and soon, by Jove!

And into my fist my pen will fly,

And I'll list the words that passed me by,

And lush words of love at last I'll say,

And I'll make up for this empty day!

←

This reminds me of the best of Ogden Nash. You should publish your poetry. (Well, I guess you are doing that, on THE FORUM. But your poems should be in a book for those who are not members to enjoy.)

[B. Royce 0]

This reminds me of the best of Ogden Nash. You should publish your poetry. (Well, I guess you are doing that, on THE FORUM. But your poems should be in a book for those who are not members to enjoy.)

←

Thank you, Stephen. In 1999 David gulbraa published a slender volume of my poems, entitled "Conscious, Unbound". Sales were poor. Other than that, two poems in two magazines and a whole bunch of rejection slips over 40 years. The market remains uninviting, to say the least, unless I want to write unsingable bits of disconnected prose, as is the fashion nowadays. Aided, of course, with a negative tone of complaint against the raping of the earth.

It is a pleasure to post my poems here, and I sincerely thank you and Betsy for this benevolent, living library of the mind.

[Stephen Speicher 0]

I just finished watching my favorite TV show, so, just a few lines for it.

The courage of Chloe---magnificent was she;

Shot down the shatterer and ended he.

He shattered, he rammed, intending to kill,

But Chloe has conquered, and he lies still.

As long as there's Chloes we'll not be poor

Who love the tough heroes of 24.

And Jack, good Jack, you've done it again;

Though a fair one 'd doubt you, you're a man of men.

←

I just watched this episode (I tape and watch later while working out). Chloe is not one of my favorite characters, but I cheered her on and felt exhilarated when I saw her at the end, firing away. And your two-liner about Jack is right on. Well done.

[B. Royce 0]

I just watched this episode (I tape and watch later while working out). Chloe is not one of my favorite characters, but I cheered her on and felt exhilarated when I saw her at the end, firing away. And your two-liner about Jack is right on. Well done.

←

Not one of my favorites either, but coming to life like she did is what stirred me to write. Exciting workouts!

[B. Royce 0]

Viuduc de Millau (2004)

White steel sails beyond the clouds,

Straight and perfect, light;

Once aimless hills now band together

To bear man's vision bright.

__________________________________

The Ancient Greek poet Sappho has been highly praised by English poets since Elizabethan times. I have read many translations, but none come even close to representing the sheer melodic beauty of her verse. I know this, not because I read Greek, but because I once heard, some thirty years ago, a recording of one of her poems on the only good band of a warped record which I found in a thrift shop. The six fragments which follow are my own somewhat free "transcriptions" of the dull, literal translations of Willis Barnstone, whom I must commend for at least having done that. However, I should say that the motive for making such lifeless translations is puzzling.

World

I reach up into the sky

And........No! not reach!

I walk on earth;

I stand in sky.

My feet press purest dust

And my song goes far.

To Eros

I, you, burn!

To Her Girlfriends

Yes, beautifully I'll sing today,

Get us glad to be living.

Full Moon

The sparkling-footed stars

Pale to the splendid moon

When in her glory she runs naked

'Round the world.

Then

With gold soft feet

dawn like a thief

fell on me.

Alone

Down are the Pleiades;

Long the lone night.

Oh, do the hours go?

Slow; oh, so slow.

[B. Royce 0]

Leap Champaigne (1992)

I think I must be happy

To dance my life away.

Okay, okay, I'm happy,

Happy every day.

I have no time for common things;

The average, it can wait.

My dancing light is on all night,

The only thing to rate.

My love and I are going,

Like every night before,

Where melodies are flowing

Ceiling to the floor.

The band is heating up, now;

The violins I hear;

There is a time for everything

And everything is here.

We tap, we twirl, we swing, we whirl,

And now we t-ap again;

We spin around and turn a-way

Then ss-way on back again.

And smooothly slow and graceful, oh,

While she is smiling more;

She is the best, she is the most,

The finest I adore.

I think I must be happy

To dance my life away.

Okay, okay, I'm happy,

Happy every day.

We take a flame of Leap Champaigne

And lightly toast our love.

We say to each "You are the lofty

Thing I'm thinking of".

And when we toss away the glasss

It tinkles, crashing so;

She is the best, she is the most,

The finest that I know.

We have no time for common things;

The average, it can wait.

Our dancing light is on all night,

The only thing to rate.

The chandeliers are sparkling,

And eyes are sparkling, too;

The confidence of dancers

Flashes every hue.

And when a song is over

The Crashing Wall is there,

To take a throw----oh don't you know

How often we are there!

I think I must be happy

To dance my life away.

Okay, okay, I'm happy,

Happy every day!

______________________________

The Doorway Of "Be"

At the gateway of grace, when I glance at your face,

I can see, I can feel, I can sway----

Peerless spirit free,

Palm to palm with me;

With lips aglow

And eyes that show

The might of ecstacy.

In the garden of "Found", when I whirl you 'round,

I do curl, I do bend, I do send-----

Flowers hailing light,

Circling 'bout the night;

And while you draw

I stand in awe----

There is no star so right.

At the doorway of "Be", when you spin back to me,

I can say (I could sing, I could shout),

"Joy is mine, I know!

A door of light does grow!

I hold the key----

It's you and me;

We lead each other----so!"

In the hallway of "Here", when we've locked in the "Near",

I do kiss, I do clasp, I do kiss----

Gold and silver, free,

Breath to breath with me;

With eyes aglow

And arms that know

The rites of ecstacy!

When the music is past, and night doesn't last,

They will turn, they will smile, they will rise,

Rise in you and I,

Starry gazes nigh;

We'll step along

And sing this song----

"Together you and I".

We'll step along

And sing this song----

"Together you and I".

_________________________________

At the age of 8 I wrote my first poem. For weeks I had asked and pleaded for a sip of my father's after-dinner beer. Finally, I wore him out, and got my sip. The next morning I started writing in my head as I walked around the house. Here it is, fresh and unimproved.

Burgermeister Beer

I want a drink of beer,

Not whiskey, but beer.

Beer is cool and refreshing,

Not bitter, but quenching.

It hits the spot with me,

Not like that rot whiskey.

I want a drink of beer,

That good Burgermeister Beer!

________________________________

Brian Faulkner

[bignosedcopperking 0]

Leap Champaigne (1992)

I think I must be happy

To dance my life away.

Okay, okay, I'm happy,

Happy every day.

I have no time for common things;

The average, it can wait.

My dancing light is on all night,

The only thing to rate.

My love and I are going,

Like every night before,

Where melodies are flowing

Ceiling to the floor.

The band is heating up, now;

The violins I hear;

There is a time for everything

And everything is here.

We tap, we twirl, we swing, we whirl,

And now we t-ap again;

We spin around and turn a-way

Then ss-way on back again.

And smooothly slow and graceful, oh,

While she is smiling more;

She is the best, she is the most,

The finest I adore.

I think I must be happy

To dance my life away.

Okay, okay, I'm happy,

Happy every day.

We take a flame of Leap Champaigne

And lightly toast our love.

We say to each "You are the lofty

Thing I'm thinking of".

And when we toss away the glasss

It tinkles, crashing so;

She is the best, she is the most,

The finest that I know.

We have no time for common things;

The average, it can wait.

Our dancing light is on all night,

The only thing to rate.

The chandeliers are sparkling,

And eyes are sparkling, too;

The confidence of dancers

Flashes every hue.

And when a song is over

The Crashing Wall is there,

To take a throw----oh don't you know

How often we are there!

I think I must be happy

To dance my life away.

Okay, okay, I'm happy,

Happy every day!

______________________________

________________________________

Brian Faulkner

←

As you already know Brian, from Objectivism Online, this is my favorite poem you have ever written ... because it currently expresses my love hope. To the rest, imagine secretly hearing one's beloved saying these things in secret monologue before he/she has declared his/her love to you. It is very touching.

Americo.

[B. Royce 0]

Youth (1992)

I lift my eyes to the mirror

And see the bright goodness of life;

I touch my body and spirit

With thoughts that are free of strife.

I acknowledge that I am my reason

For asking myself to do,

That my aim may be rare----hard struggle to There----

Yet entirely mine to pursue.

I set my goal with my whole brain,

I plan each step around me;

I know that in me I've all the strength

To be what I want to be.

I swing out a door in the sunlight,

The mountains high up I scan;

Over them all I'm climbing,

The future within me----"I can."

I know that not one hill is promised

(There's no guarantee of free height),

But that effort, and effort, and effort,

At least may help set me up right.

I work for the triumphs of working,

Of stamping new roadways "Done!"

Of knowing my sharpness, my energy, my skill,

Are many joys pressed into one.

I stride the night skies of near-parted,

I mark where new pass lanes belong;

Yes, I mirror the stars with more color

To celebrate life more strong!

Then I pause, at last, on Completion;

At least, till I newly begin;

For my dreams are still singing,

Thought's wake-bells tingling,

And gleams of new angles are in!

________________________________

Icarus (1994)

Yes, it's true, he fell.

But that he tried-------Nay!

Gave his all!------

His new knowledge,

His life's strength,

His whole will, till------

"Up, Icarus, up!"------

His self-made, self-said name

On righting wings of pride

Soared up through the centuries!

Yea! e'en now I hear it,

"Up, Icarus, up!"

________________________________

Brian Faulkner

[B. Royce 0]

Fact

This fact that is above all other,

This fact that is perfect, free:

Two touchless souls that grace and brace----

Sweeping glance of steel, beams to be----

Great as four eyes highest possibility;

This; you, me looking at you,

.........separate, complete;

.........me, you looking at me,

.........separate, complete;

This: selfish, judging,

.........weighing What,

.........ungiving, expecting

.........nothing and all:

Dare eyes that are open to win,

Clear forehead that is unfearing bold,

Light-pressed lips over unhumiliated chin,

Faintless body, as unfated soul,

Free-ringing question for the painless answer----

Whistling syllable that never tolls.

Truth's find that is above all other;

Love's find, and the hands that pull;

"I" time---'Mine! There is no other!'

Greed's place, and our mouths are full!

This: you knowing all me

.........knowing all you,

.........separate, self-seeking,

.........together, self-found:

Dawn's fact above all other,

Fact's light, warm and free,

Light's light----'I love you'----

Lying, standing, greedy;

You, me, looking!

____________________________

Brian Faulkner

[B. Royce 0]

Here are a few lines in response to some pictures I saw in a children's illustrated history of the 19th century, all involving work of some kind.

Words For Pictures

Joy in work means joy in life,

And where none shirk there is no strife.

Bear down there, young man;

The wheel's in your hand.

Steady, set to it;

You know you can!

The glorious softness of multi-colored earth

And the glad straight rows of man, proving worth.

Side by side, in perfect pride,

The river roars down,

The boat puffs up.

One stands in front to point the way;

One in the middle to blast "Okay!"

Back by the flag, in stern control,

The Clermont's steersman sees the goal.

I know what I know;

I see what I see;

No socialist government

Will ever stop me.

Busy, growing, smokey, mighty Pittsburgh,

Whose labor have you not lightened?

Whose roads and houses not rolled or nailed,

.............................................hardened, strengthened?

What magnificent cities sparkle now because of thee?

Busy, growing, smokey, mighty Pittsburgh!

"Well, dog, you better run;

I'm going to work!"

___________________________________________

The Marcher

I'm marching, I'm marching,

I'm marching down the street.

I'm singing, I'm singing,

And everything is neat!

The windows are shining,

And polished every door!

Oh, look! there's a marcher!

I couldn't ask for more!

I'm dancing, I'm dancing,

I'm dancing down the lane!

To try me, to buy me,

A drum to beat again!

A storm, it is starting,

I know it's gonna pour,

And if there is thunder

I could not ask for more!

The Highnote is open,

The keeper square and tall.

I point to a round thing

Down low upon the wall;

But quickly he gets it

Although his hair is gray.

I flip him a gold piece

And I am on my way!

It's windy, it's cooler,

The heavy sky does throw!

The lightning's a-flashing,

The people laughing, OH!

They know that their city

Will never stop for rain.

The trucks keep on whizzing

The goods around again.

But breaking, now, men jump on out, conveyor wheels go!

Unloading freight so very fast----they never heard of slow!

Boxes, boxes, all about, with gloves and many a hat!

Coats and shoes, umbrellas, too! unloading after that!

I'm beating, I'm beating,

I'm beating on my drum.

And louder, and louder,

I never had such fun!

Oh, look! there's another

Who could not stay within.

Wow! what a marcher!

I wonder where she's been?

A piper, he's coming,

He's coming down the street!

He's piping and piping

That everything is neat.

And dancers are dancing,

They dance down every lane.

They know that their city

Will never stop for rain.

The clouds, now, are passing

And planes are in the sky.

The sunlight is streaming

Upon the towers high.

And here comes that marcher

Who could not stay within.

She steps right beside me;

Oh what a way to win!

We're whirling, we're twirling,

We're swaying down the street!

We're singing, we're whistling,

'Cause everything is neat.

The windows are shining,

And polished every door.

Oh look! there's a marcher!

I couldn't ask for more!

______________________________

Brian Faulkner

[B. Royce 0]

I Am I (1985)

They say there will be light

If I give up my self;

I'll set the world right

If I only do not think of me.

My life is not my own, they say,

I'm only here to give;

Let others have control of me

And then I'll surely live, I'll see.

Just bow down humbly;

Just grovel on the earth;

I'm lesser than a common tree,

My thoughts are but a curse.

Just bow down humbly;

Don't stand and I'll be fine;

Have faith in what they're telling me

And sacrifice my mind. I'll see.

Just bow down humbly;

Don't walk alone and sing;

Don't hold my head up in the sky

Or reach for anything.

My life is not my own, they say;

I'm only here to please.

Let others have the soul of me;

I'm better on my knees, I'll see.

But I have never let me go,

And no, I never will.

I touch all things around me;

I hear all winds roar by;

I see the sunlight clasp the earth

And sweep through all the sky.

I know I am at peace here,

With none but me to steer.

Reality is outside me

And I know I am here. I know! I know!

They say that I am foolish now,

So childish am I;

To go alone was in the past,

Self-trust is but a lie, I'll see.

I have a great beginning,

My mind is very strong;

I set the mark to reason hard

And lead myself along.

All ways are now wide open,

Waiting high for me----

My trusty sight, my vision, light,

My gladness soaring free.

I say, "Work is work,

And man is man,

And I am I.'

They say there will be light

If I seek not to be;

That motion is a sign of blight

And stillness is for free.

My life is not my own, they say,

All others, they come first.

If I will only be like them

I'll die without a curse, I'll see.

I load my gold around me;

I hear my trucks roar by;

I see my spotlights catch my planes

And sweep through all the sky.

The world will see light, they say,

If I will pray for me.

Cold logic is no longer right,

But tends to misery.

My life is not my own, they say;

I'm only here to give.

Let pity fill the soul of me

So "die" will equal "live". I see.

I see my bridges gleaming

From bank to greeting plain;

And all around I hear the sound

Of trains that roll for gain.

Yes,

There's lightning and there's thunder,

There's flood and torn up tree;

But what I am is working, too,

And I am victory. I see, I see!

My city lights are shining;

They beckon from above.

There are no selfless men up there,

But only men I love.

My gate is now wide open,

There's one last hill to climb;

And climb I do with all that's true,

Until I pass "On time!"

And now,

I shall not bow forever.

Forever, bow to me;

And Fate, you're late! Get out and wait!

I open not for ye!

For man is man,

And pride is pride,

And "Stand!" is "Stand!"

And I am I.

________________________________

Brian Faulkner

[B. Royce 0]

There's a lot of beautiful country in Pennsylvania, and you don't have to go far to find it. I'll be heading back in a few weeks (Go east, young man, go east!).

In The Hills (1998)

I wake up in the hills of Aston,

bright chirpings everywhere,

fog quiet on the creek.

Old roads curl up and around

and fall on back down and curl up again,

slipping in peace through beautiful shades of green----

love-green, hope-green, reawakening life-green----

and the great construction trucks awaken, too,

powerful, joyous, glad to be working,

ready for the rolling hills of Aston.

White T-shirted, blue-jeaned, booted,

minds, arms and hands reaching to lift the day,

men of confidence walk, talk, and motor

through the hills of Aston;

bright children skip with their books,

then stop and look,

and cool women smile, talk, walk, and motor, too;

and the first school bus is right on time.

And now in among some bluing, purpling, pinking flowers,

an old white dog, standing on his doghouse roof,

barks out a rough-tough deep "Goodmorning"

to the rising, falling, listening hills of Aston,

and to the wondering world beyond.

I wake up in the hills of Aston,

bright chirpings everywhere,

fog quiet on the creek.

_______________________________________

Bells (after Poe) (1997)

The lightly touching tinkling bells,

Shimm'ring, babbling, laughing in the breeze,

The ever-merry tapping bells,

Who now has these?

Low, slow, iron bells;

Deep, still, lead bells;

Bells, bells, bells.

Bells. Bells. Bells.

All gladly-sounding glowing golden-bells,

Lilting, lighter, brighter yellow-bells,

Mightier-yellow even whiter bells!

Ivory-keyed I-concerto-bells!

Striding proudly in the breeze

I have these!

The bells of thoughts serenely dear,

Planning, looking, finding----here!

The hand that reaches for the loved bell's face,

Then touches, almost, the perfect place.

Low, slow, iron bells;

Deep, still, lead bells;

Bells, bells, bells.

Bells. Bells. Bells.

All terrible-sad mad rebellious bells,

Brazed, swinging-fast Goliath bells,

Stronger, harder-hearted mountain bells,

Caught! Smelted! Recast!

Now joyous-sounding royal-loyal-bells,

Silver-lovely radiant treasure-bells,

Sure-as-morning's darling pleasure-bells,

Sledging! steady! ready! wedding-bells! Bells!

All happy in the breeze,

We have these!

High, soft, snapdragon bells;

Kissed, whisp'ring, thoughtful body-bells;

"Bells......bells......bells".

_______________________________________

Brian Faulkner

[Betsy Speicher 0]

Brian,

I especially enjoy poems like your "In the Hills" because they deal with concretes and successfully communicate abstractions like beauty or anticipation or serenity in terms of concretes.

Words that evoke selected sensory experiences make abstractions real to me in a way that abstractions alone just can't.

[B. Royce 0]

Brian,

I especially enjoy poems like your "In the Hills" because they deal with concretes and successfully communicate abstractions like beauty or anticipation or serenity in terms of concretes. 

Words that evoke selected sensory experiences make abstractions real to me in a way that abstractions alone just can't.

←

Glad you enjoyed it, Betsy, and you make a good point.

[B. Royce 0]

Here are a few poems for children.

Jack the Egg

Jack the egg

Jumped into the pan

And sat on the leg

Of the bacon man.

Then old Mister Fork

With his four little fingers

Scrambled together

In fiery weather

Jack the egg

And the bacon man

On the iron seat

Of the frying pan,

And that is how

My day began!

_________________

Slush! Slosh!

Slush! Slosh! marching in the goo;

Put on your boots and I'll march with you.

Squish, squash, making funny noise;

Mud was made for us girls and boys.

Slush! Slosh! marching in the goo;

Do do do do do-dee, do do dee-do!

__________________________________

Running Fun

It's so fun to be running

Up a hill, down a hill,

Over and through,

When a dog or a friend is

Going and coming

And running with you

Up a hill, down a hill,

Over and through!

________________________

Catch'm!

Zip! goes the fly;

Zoom! goes the bee;

Up and down the butterfly,

You can't catch me!

________________________

Cat 'n Rat

Cat on a fence

Sat on a fence

Purring soft and low;

Rat in the bush

Sat in the bush

And didn't know where to go.

The stars came out,

The moon came out,

And the rat came out with a rush;

The wind sang,

The cat sprang!

And the rat was a meal of mush.

______________________________

Itch, Bully (after Baa baa)

Woof, woof, puppydog,

Have you any fleas?

"Yes, Sir, yes, Sir,

As many as you please.

One for the black cat,

And one for the white,

And one for the bully-dog

To itch all night!

__________________________

Knock-Knock

One knock-knock,

Two knock-knock,

Three knock-knock,

Four;

Who's knock knock knocking

At my castle door?

One step-step,

Two step-step,

Three step-step,

Four;

Who's step step stepping

On my castle floor?

One good night,

Two good nights,

Three good nights,

Four;

Dumping great moonbeams

On my castle floor!

One knock-knock,

Two knock-knock,

Three knock-knock,

Four;

Who's knock knock knocking

At my castle door?

____________________________

The Kitty

The kitty is pretty and soft;

He's sitting and licking his paws.

And now, without making a sound,

He's walking around and around.

He jumps like fluff on the chair,

And now he is walking up there;

Circling around and around

Without ever making a sound.

______________________________

Alaska

To Alaska? I do ask ya,

To Alaska do you go?

I will pass you in Alaska

If you haven't shoes for snow.

I will pass you, say "Alas! you

Will never make it through.'

Better ask you in Alaska

For a very warm igloo.

___________________________

Sibs

I am the brother of her

And she is the sister of me;

Whenever we confer

We talk slowly.

We talk so-o s-slow

Words b-arely g-o.

We can-not e-ven hear them s-t-o .

And yet we do concur

That she is the sister of me

And I am the brother of her!

________________________________

A is A

Square block on block

Stands tall, won't fall;

Round ball on ball

Won't stand at all.

Round ball rolls,

Or bounces by,

Or up into my cup so high.

Square block stops,

And stops,

And stops.

The ball was rolling fast

And hit another ball;

The other ball rolled past

And hit the wall.

The wall didn't fall,

Didn't move at all.

The wall, it not a roller is;

The ball, it IS.

_____________________________

Will You Go Hugo?

Will you go Hugo amarching with me?

Will you go Hugo way down to the sea?

Over the hills we'll go into the sun

(Shining on flowers and kissing each one).

Into the wind we'll go singing so fair,

Skipping a song throught the bright summer air!

Under the bridge we'll go hollering loud;

Hollering, hollering, hollering proud!

Down to the sand we'll go, down to the shore,

Down where the waves are a lion aroar!

Over the hills and on down to the sea,

Will you go Hugo amarching with me?

___________________________________

Brian The Lion

Brian the Lion

Was sighin' and cryin',

Brian the Lion

Was sad;

He chewed up a shoe

With a toe sticking through

And it tickled his tummy

Like mad!

Brian the Lion

Was moaning and groaning,

Brian the Lion

Was blue;

He ate up a hat

With an ear that was fat,

And it wiggled his tummy

In two!

Brian the Lion

Was sneezing and wheezing,

Brian the Lion

Was ill;

He gulped down a chair

When a person sat there,

But he'd never, oh never,

Sit still!

___________________________

The Blue-Eyed Boy

A blue-eyed boy with yellow hair

Is in my mind to stay;

He's running, shouting, everywhere,

And making bright my day.

He often goes on shopping sprees

And buys up all in sight:

Grapes, bananas, cookies, cheese,

In imagination's light.

And then he flies a fast airplane,

Transporting mighty men,

To slay the monsters in the rain

And make them sleep again.

And deep, and deep, and deeper down,

Beneath the house for gold,

He digs and digs around and 'round----

A miner strong and bold.

With hose in hand, the neighbor's dog

He gives a sur_prise bath.

No more is dog a sleeping log

And all we do is laugh.

Then, splash! on me! I'm wet! I'm wet!

He's caught me off my guard!

"Oho! my friend, I'll get you yet,

Then I'll be laughing hard!"

This blue-eyed boy with yellow hair

Is making bright my day.

He's running, shouting, everywhere,

And in my mind to stay.

_____________________________________

Storm

The wind calls,

The rain falls,

The sorm is coming nearer.

Black clouds crack,

"Crack! Crack! Crack!

Throwing their jagged spears.

______________________________

The Best

We are happy to be happy,

For we do the best we can;

We are rolling through the prairies

Bringing loads of goods to man.

He is hungry, he is thirsty,

He would like a roof above;

He wants apples, he wants music,

He wants diamonds for his love.

He wants more than we should carry,

But we bring it just the same,

For we hope to live in future

As a sign of human fame.

We struggle up a mountaintop,

"Push! Push! Grind the rail!

Hard now! Go as one! All you

Engines, drive! Don't fail!

"See the rocks far down below us,

Grinning greedily for our fall?

Hear the thunder right above us,

Throwing scorn upon us all?

"We must drive a little harder,

We must strive until we win;

To do less would be dishonor,

To give up would be to sin."

Over mountains, through the forests,

'Cross the deserts cruel and dry,

We are rolling, we are rolling,

We are rolling-rolling by!

Oh, we're happy to be happy,

For we dothe best we can;

And we love our happy purpose----

Bringing all his goods to man!

________________________________

Brian Faulkner

[Betsy Speicher 0]

Brian,

As a Mommy Emeritus and collector of children's books, I'd say your children's poems have potential. If you hook up with a talented illustrator who can catch the whimsy of your words you might give Robert Louis Stevenson a run for his money.

[B. Royce 0]

Betsy, thank you for your encouragement. Last December I sent many of the above poems to the people who put out Cricket, Ladybug and Babybug. The only one they wanted was the first four lines of "A is A", to be published three years from now. They had no comments for the other poems. Is there a children's book publisher that you would recommend?

Sing

Sing a song in darkness,

Sing a song in bright,

Sing a song inside you

And you will be all right.

Sing a song below you,

Sing a song above,

Sing a song around you

And you'll know love.

Sing a song in cloudy,

Sing a song in sun,

Sing a song always

And you'll BE one.

__________________________

Hum

Quietly, gently, grow all the flowers,

Snails snug under them in daylight hours.

Peacefully, sleepily, Night's robe spreads;

Now all the snails leave their beds.

Then comes the dew and the grass smells new;

Then come the snails to sip and view.

They see the whole garden, they like it fine,

And there's a mouse come out to dine!

And a passing airplane hums so low

The snails wonder, "Could we hum so?"

They try and they try, and they're almost done,

When suddenly, quickly, up leaps the sun!

As fast as they can they turn on their tails,

Sliding and gliding o'er very small dales.

Then over the hose and around the rocks,

Up to the back wall where nobody knocks.

Now deep in the shade they slow down to rest,

"Ah! so cool! For sleep it's best!"

Brightily, lightily, the sun's rays near,

To spang a leaf, or to point and cheer.

Quietly, gently, humm all the flowers,

Snails snug under them in daylight hours.

_______________________________________

Note: when I wrote this (about 8 years ago) I thought I was making up a new word in "spang" (last stanza). I thought of it as a thrilling light love-tap of the sun.

It just now occurred to me to see if it was already a word. It is, and it means a hard and/or violent jerking. Well, since no one ever uses it, that's what it used to mean. We know what it means now.

Brian Faulkner

[Betsy Speicher 0]

Is there a children's book publisher that you would recommend?

←

Not really, since I don't have experience in the field. You might research who is publishing the kinds of books you are interested in writing and also contact potential collaborators such as published illustrators of childrens' books whose work you like. People are often flattered when you ask them for advice and gladly provide you with the information you want.

[B. Royce 0]

Not really, since I don't have experience in the field.  You might research who is publishing the kinds of books you are interested in writing and also contact potential collaborators such as published illustrators of childrens' books whose work you like.  People are often flattered when you ask them for advice and gladly provide you with the information you want.

←

Good idea; thanks.

[B. Royce 0]

How rar A Lyre (1983)

Empty streets, empty days,

Year after year no word of praise.

Men called villains; women, too;

Year after year no dreams pursue.

Achievement past marked Selfish Greed;

Now no one dares one exulting deed.

Action's over, goals are dust;

No vital triumph, no joyous lust.

What? What?? What???

What alien sound is that?

-------------------------------

How rare a lyre of human fire

I hear rise warm and clear.

From lost years' height new singing might

Fills abandons here!

"We are the light of heroes' sight----

This stone-cloaked steel and I.

Our tall proclaim: He bears our name

Who'd from himself not fly."

Up glad'ning slope I stamp my hope,

Then top a hill to see---

A halo hair, a face taut-fair,

A form's dare harmony.

She speaks alone by skyscrape stone

And scans it, proud and free.

Lines far beyond have but one dawn----

Her climbing self to see.

"I sang to man one creed: 'I can',

Though none came here long years.

I sing again, 'I can! I can!'

And you step near to hear.

"Your fearless gaze shows thoughtful ways,

Each step you take is great.

Your truth that wins be man's 'Can't sin,

Can only "can't' abate.

"These temples won, their forms well done,

Each soaring man-love free,

If by life's rise you'd guide your eyes,

See them; but first, see me."

I name your name----Egoistian Flame----

And walk the high way to;

I brush the lyre of Midas-fire

And feed my lips with you.

One liquid breath, one gilding word,

I need not hear or guess;

Song's singeing blaze molds all its rays

To fill my mouth with----"Yes!"

Then up, alone, by aspiring stone,

Past Death's humility,

It's you and I, and I and you,

And ledges edging free.

Now both your hands are bolt my hands,

And so our frames, enwound;

We feel Love's might inseal us, bright,

Who is our shrine profound.

We string the lyre, sweep breath entire,

Desire, chord in a kiss;

With lips our-curled we mine the world

All lines of 'can' insist.

On tamed rock plane we lock in gain

Like granite-bursting wings;

And Passion gives, and Beauty lives,

And First Dream wakes and sings.

"Your lines are swept, their views I've kept,

I know the love of Time;

In Pride's high place see I my face,

Devoured of eyes that climb."

Our mouths are pure, rare lyres endure,

Our towers cast up right;

High steps that dare, high scans 'Up there!'

End last, right here, in light.

Mid dews soft-sewn on silvering stone

The heights of the world live;

And lays of youth, and the praise of truth,

My hands to your body give.

_______________________________________

Brian Faulkner

[B. Royce 0]

Blast! That title is "How Rare A Lyre"

[B. Royce 0]

A few years ago I thought I'd try my hand at country western songs, had two made into professional demos, but there were no takers. Here are the lyrics of one of them.

Ev'ry Little Thing

Ev'ry little thing you do today

To get a little into my way

Is really okay with me.

You're the only one I know

Can flatter me happy so

Whenever you get in my way.

'Cause I really like you there,

I like you anywhere,

I like you ev'rywhere I am.

Little things you do with me,

All the times you're true to me,

Whenever you get in my way.

When I wake to take a shower

An' you're in "just an hour"

It's power power power to my woman!

'Cause though my towel's all wet

You've laid out another new set

And that is okay, too, with me.

When I see my easy chair

Filled with you reading there,

It's really okay with me.

You're the only one I know

Who never gets in my way

Whenever you get in my way.

Here a-with and there a-with,

In front of an' in back of me,

Walkin' 'long side of me, oh;

Lookin' an' turnin' 'bout,

You it's without a doubt,

I am so happy to know.

When I walk out to my car

'Ready shiftin' there you are,

Smilin' a sneaky mystery.

An' so I slide right in,

Say "Take me for a spin,

To work in the way with me."

Hey! you gonna work my shift?

Hey! that would be a real gift;

But no, that might be a mistake.

I got a hungry hunch

When it was time for my lunch

You'd already be eatin' my steak!

But I'd really like you there,

I'd like you anywhere,

I'd like you ev'rywhere I am.

Little things you do with me,

All the times you're true to me,

Whenever you get in my way.

Here a-with and there a-with,

In front of an' in back of me,

Walkin' 'long side of me, oh;

Lookin' an' turnin' 'bout,

You it's without a doubt,

I am so happy to know.

Ev'ry little thing you do today

To get a little into my way

Is really okay with me.

You're the only one I know

Can flatter me happy so,

Whenever you get in my way.

______________________________

Brian Faulkner

[B. Royce 0]

To my cousin, who loves working on her fix-'r-up houses.

To Leslie (1984)

Your never-failing cheerfulness

Forever makes each day

The whitest smile of bright success

No cloud can shy away.

To think and plan and work together

With true delight in sight;

To test our best in every weather----

There's not much more so right.

And with the play of "we can do it"

Alive in mind and heart,

There's not a way we'll ever lose it,

Us happy workers smart

__________________________________

For my sister, who loves tulips.

The Tulip Brigade (2005)

A hundred million tulips came marching into town,

They strode above the weeds and chinned their joy around.

They marched down every alley, they tramped down every street,

With a big bold chorus, "Ain't life sweet!"

A hundred million tulips went charging to the hills----

They're better on the flats, but they volunteered for thrills!

They ran down little vallies that seemed to lie in wait,

With a big bold chorus, "Ain't life great!"

A hundred million tulips were gath'ring at a lake;

They leaned a bit and saw it, and yes, was no mistake----

A hundred million tulips up-gath'ring in the sky,

With a big bold chorus, "My oh my!"

A hundred million tulips came marching back to town;

They set up guards at gardenplots and nodded love around.

They issued proclamations with a dandelion band

And a big bold chorus, "Ain't life grand!"

______________________________________________________

To young people everywhere.

The Star (2003)

The things in life you want

Some say "you can't";

But Me, Myself, and I,

We know I can.

We don't give in

To scorn, sarcasm, fears,

But go right on

As one Three Musketeers.

Thoughts, Ideas, Dreams,

We're everwhere;

We spark and flash---we stream!

A joyous Dare!

With chin in hand

We view the future, far,

Then take command

To grasp that giant star.

I, Me, Myself,

Straight on up we go,

Courage our real wealth,

Challenge---all we know.

The way is long,

Rugged, hard and high,

But we---the strong---

All mounting odds defy.

It's "Up" against the men

Who'd try to chide us down;

"Up!" again and again

Upon each hoot and frown.

They think they're kingly wise

Who tell us "don't explore",

But their fake real-dom sways

While they shake at the door.

"You haven't got much chance",

They say----they, who stand and stare,

And never walk or dance

Alone in open space and air.

"And you are selfish, too,"

They say----they, who never want

What they desire all through

'Cause someone else says "can't".

But Me, Myself, and I,

I Want what I do desire;

Just like the eagle, high,

I am a solo flyer.

For me, the tempting new,

Rare vision barely seen,

Waiting my footsteps true

Pressing the gold-fringed scene.

There, all calm and still,

O'er sneering winds of "No",

I'll sing whate'er I will,

The star of my own show.

And then that loud live light,

That joy I felt at birth,

Will flood me with such might

I'll drink my own self-worth.

For what seemed awfully far

Was always here, inside----

That strange heroic star,

The fearless face of pride.

_________________________________

Brian Faulkner

[Stephen Speicher 0]

For my sister, who loves tulips.

The Tulip Brigade (2005) ...

A joyful and spirited poem. Your sister must have been delighted!