Posted 16 May 2005 · Report post A joyful and spirited poem. Your sister must have been delighted!←Definitely! Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 20 May 2005 · Report post Here are four short lyrics from my late teen's.Thou Art GodThou art God,O Naked Girl,And all of Thee be fine.I, too, God,With air for wearing,And all of Me be Thine.Come! Let's roll upon the BedAnd set the springs asinging;Two into One,God unto God,Our virginity far-flinging!_______________________Two, as one, we go,Walking in the shadowed rain.The grass softens,The long green branches reach.Thick as raindrops fallKisses fall, and fall again.Hands grow heavy,Pulses bound;And Oh, the heavenly motion,And Oh, the joyful sound!______________________________So SweetShe kissed me so sweetI am light as air;Where my two lips meetShe kissed me so sweet.And the arms of Defeat?Oh, I'll never be there!She kissed me so sweetI am light as air!____________________________And when she was gone,Sweet little butterfly, blithely gone by,I blow out a kiss for you, following nigh.Oh catch, if you can, this soul of a man,To love and to keep it and fly fly fly!_________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 7 Jun 2005 · Report post Good Deal (1992)I come to buy! I come to buy!To better goods I steer!Regard me with a happy eye;I come to buy! I'm here!"Welcome then, new customer,We both shall profit, see?Such perfect things I have for you,If you have gold for me."I've gold, indeed, and silver, too;My wallet rings and rings!And I will trade all that I've madeIf you will trade those things."You have enough, you've got great stuff;I am so glad to sell."And I to buy, to have the goodsThat all my wants do tell."Shake hands, shake hands; you are my friend."And you are mine, agreed.I came to buy; you came to sell;What better good, indeed!__________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 8 Jun 2005 · Report post This poem was written when I was thinking about changing the name of Christmas. Perhaps it will one day help celebrate a brand new holiday.High Midas Day (2004)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 alight,We shoppers scour the mall.A mound to make for this year's takeWe'll find, and rake in all.To sate desire of Man---The Buyer,Proud shops and markets stand.Who trade would win may enter inAnd gaze on all things grand.With wages won for work well doneWe step, we look, we find---"O Perfect Prize, O Light of Eyes,O mirrored Aim of Mind!"Our piles of dough, we love them so---The jingling, crinkling bliss;But goods held tight in owner's rightIs like a Midas kiss.And so we say on Midas Day"Our gift of life is bought;We made our dough, we traded, oh!And bull's eye Joy is caught!"________________________________ In 1994 I met a delightful couple who had met each other the year before at an Objectivist conference in San Francisco. The love in their eyes and voices inspired the following poem which I wrote and gave to them.Toge'erLewis, John, and Casey Conn,Have hearts, they say. It's true!I hear them beat,Then stop, repeat;They paused for one "I do".Casey Conn and Lewis, John,Are archers swift and sure,And with a wink,A twang---a sink!---The point of Love is pure.Down by the Bay, in '93',They went to hear and learn.They took no book,But took a look,Taught Seeing how to burn.And then---he's off---she stays----no good."O Archers, raise your bows!The target's far,But You're the Star"---They hit! The planet knows!And now---he's here---she stays----so good!"True Archers, claim reward!Yourselves full holdAs warmest gold,Through life to shine and guard."Lewis, John, and Casey ConnAre stepping now, toge'er.To make a band,Or string a hand,There's not a righter pair!________________________________Too late for Valentine's Day? Never.The Anti Anti-Valentine's Valentine (2005)For one who loves not Valentine'sI break my bow in half,Nor shoot an arrow from Love's heartIf she but mock and laugh.I'll not be Cupid, no, not I,For one whose sweet glance chills;I'd rather look at frozen skyOr die upon thorny hills.For one who loves not Valentine'sAll teddy bears I toss;And I shall only catch a kissIf it's shiny chocolate gloss.I shall not waste, no no, not I,A whole day's pay on rosesFor she who only counts this dayA thing of feints and poses.And yet, when all is said and done,And Valentine's is past,At night I'll string a dreamy bowAnd pierce her heart at last.But no! It's not enough!This airy nothing stuff.It spin cannot the keyTo engine her and me.In place of charm,A hand on arm,A grasp, a pulling in!Four lips that surgeTo urge a merge,More profiting to win!We'll double beMonopoly----Insidership divine!Assert the real,Consume the deal,And buy up Valentine!__________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 4 Jul 2005 · Report post A few years ago a young woman came to work as a clerk at a motel where I was working. Her name was Alice; she was from Belize; she was going to school part-time; she said she wanted to be independent; I admired her competence.AliceAlice, working at dawn,Adding figures, answering calls,Double checking, checking out,Working, working, working.Alice, talking on the phone;Alice, thoughtfully alone;Alice, gazing in space;Alice, Alice, Alice.Face so beautifully unique,Honest sincerity there does speak;Eyes dark as midnight specked with light----Harmonies of music changed to sight.Voice low and calmWith bits of laughter clear,She can quickly frownDown irrelevant cheer.She's fast on her feet;Zoom! quicker than quick!Here, there, back, forth,Sits down to write.Alice, transcribing her soul;Alice, totally self-responsible;Alice, creating her life;Alice, my friend without strife.She'll find her a better jobAnd do what she loves to do----Give worth to every placeThat has her face in view.Her competent mind will learnEach delicate thing it mustTo earn her those quiet thrillsThat are good and true and just.Alice, alive on her own;Alice, in love all day;Alice, working the meaningOf "doing it my own way".There is no woman on earthWho for all time is so right,Who bears in her spirit more worthThan a thousand stars shimm'ring with light.Alice, a name without malice;Alice, the jewel of life's chalice;Alice, friend's heart's grand palace,Alice, Alice, Alice.__________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 4 Jul 2005 · Report post Right HereHe looked at each person and saw the face of God.Each God lay on the floor, starving, thirsting, emaciated.As he broke the last bar of his self-made prison windowHe felt their papery hands praying him back, impotent.He knew, as they did, just what they wanted.But he didn't care; he was walking free upon the sand,Wind in his hair, sun on his body,Without God,Alone at last,Triumphant.And now there's another like himself, far-off,Making his own way, striding the earth.They stop; they wave; they speak."Glad-eyed, light-shouldered, self-determined, Man!""Yea! Lover of Wisdom, too!""Yes! And of Beauty, Strength, Pride!"Yea! And above all, I!""But where, now, are you bound?""To the high mountains, to reshape them, to fly them o'er the sea,To carry golden stones and books of my making, for I'll beWorking, thinking, judging, working, writing, endlessly mastering!""And I'm just now seeing things; there's so much!"They stride straight swiftly on, singing the new song,Each in his own new-found way;Lifting up, from cliff to cliff, leaning out, from shore to shore,Then round the rip'ning world, in man-lit pleasure hurled and whirled and swirled,"Life is my mastery, pride of ability,Profiting endlessly, now I am free!"Then, from the singer of selfish kind, Ayn Rand,"Have you found your temple?""Yes. Right here. My mind.""And what is it built upon, do you see?""Yes. The one eternal foundation, Reality!"_________________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 10 Jul 2005 · Report post Yes, there's time left in the day for a sonnet.The GrandestAre you the grandest being in my life?No tidal storm could roll as grand a sheet.As oft' I look I see no held back strife,But even free sea-gazes, calm and sweet.Way-out theories sweep within your eyes;Bending light frowns bare cliffs size.But better this (and keener than the radiant sun)---The beams of your lips when a fierce way's won.And now you really come like dawn upon your way,Swift joy within your body, hands and feet---Sighting joy, that sings to me, "It's day!Be taking now, and make your life complete!"We swear together in our compact strife,"You ARE the grandest being in my life!"_________________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 14 Jul 2005 · Report post Come, My Love (after Marlowe)I have many many notes to sing,And I have many melodies.Come, come, come, oh come, my Love,I'll sing you anything you please.Sing you any rapture, sing you any try,Sing you any power right;Sing you anything you love to buyIn daytime or in night.Sing you of the flowing breezesSwirling in your perfumed hair;Sing you of your eyes so steadyAnd showing evermore, "I dare!"I can sing of any thingThat passes through the sky;Every city on the earthIs just a note of "I".Roaring and soaring, engines a-driving,Bridges and towers and all;Bells that are ringing, hammers a-pounding,Girders connecting, sing "I".Then quiet time alone,A-thinking what you'll do,Seeing what you've done so farAnd where you're going to----This I sing inside of me,Singing all the time;I will sing you everythingIf you will be mine.I have many many many many notes to sing,And I have many melodies;Come, come, come, oh come! my Love,I'll sing you anything you please!_________________________________________My AvenueWalk walk walk walk walking down the avenue,Going to my job along the way,My happiness, it blesses all the avenue,A-scanning all the products on display.Hardy black shoes, challenging books, they call me;Blankets of gold on beautiful beds, they draw me;Paintings of love and life fulfilled,Poems of rapture getting me thrilled,Wonderful, glorious, great and victorious,They call me to buy them again and again and again!March, march, march, march, marching down the avenue,Going after work to pay my bill.There it goes, all my money, GOIng....Going........gone.But coming on are my possessions,Coming home are my possessions.I'll put them on and try them out,And then I'll have nothing to cry about.I'll look so happy and feel so gayThat I'll be set to greet the dayBySkip skip skip skip skipping up the avenue,Up and down the avenue,Everything I'm wearing new!Shouting, shouting, shouting,"My avenue, I love you!"_______________________________________NowWaves waver in the turning tide;Winds wind south, or north abide;Stars fade out in the rising sun,And time is over and just begun._______________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 17 Jul 2005 · Report post Many years ago I tried writing in in the Elizabethan style and expressing the malevolent universe premise, thus:Oh, WinterBefore these heavy winds, outreaching Fate,Drive underneath the sod each flowering tree;Before this heartless hand, whose callous hateKills all things living that for loving plea;Before dire Time, whose iron lungs derideAnd desecrate, erode, and crush to dustThe swelling blossoms of the summer's pride,My stricken tongue finds speech, and speak I must.Though warm lands chill, and freeze and shrink, to know,O Winter, know your huge and hurling ways,In which thy fist, through veil of shifting snow,Winds down the heartbeat of once-happy days,This mine own rhyming heart, with song for flame,Burns breathing Beauty through your ghostly frame!_________________________________________________Here, a much later poem, revised today.SongHigh above me blue and white,Always open, easy might.Slowly-softly the clouds roll by;Blue right above them; down here, I.Bare are the trees and the air is cold;But I couldn't care, I have room to be.I lie and I watch everything on high---Subtle changes passing by.Going, going, the blue I see;Clouds are growing billowy.Huge and wide, they flow and spread;Blue is an eyelash overhead.Up there thunder comes unbound;Slender lightning lashes down.Rain's all a-falling as I standing sing;Winter is calling, but I am Spring.Subtle changes passing by;Blue right above them, down here, I.___________________________________Spring's HereBirds sing through my window,Sing cheerfully all they can;All is true they're singing----"Spring's here! Winter ran!"__________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 22 Jul 2005 · Report post In Silence (1965)In a shade of rest in a valley unknown of,A lonely dell where no one calls,A quiet depth, and little lighted,Where no birds are, nor waterfalls;Where Silence rules, and is king triumphant,And winds bow down in lowly shame,Walk I in peace in the early morning,Walk I in gladness singing your name.____________________________________Winter's Gone (2005)Your kisses fell like rain on me(Oh gentle storm, oh ecstasy!),And I embraced and held you fastTo make our Winter last.Yet 'twasn't Winter, no, 'twas May(Oh stormy May, oh wintry May!),And oh the snowing, oh the blast!Your kissings sweet amassed!But now the sky's an awful blue,And not one cloud re-hails my view.I'd back turn time if I knew how,And June make Winter, always, now!And yet, if I have just one gain----A mist of e-mail in place of rain----I'll tell my fingers, "Type all this:My soul's whole year is one Fall kiss."___________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 28 Jul 2005 · Report post I wrote this poem yesterday, sent it as a "letter" to The New York Times today.Allah Is AfraidAllah blows himself up..................bit by bit..................day after day.Allah is afraid of living,Allah is afraid to stay.Allah doesn't think or dream..................for himself..................night after night.Allah is afraid of seeing..................for himself..................a happy sight.Allah is afraid of the earth,..................afraid of the sky;Allah is afraid----and that is why..................he chooses to die.Allah blows himself up bit by bit.When Allah's fear of livingSees someone's love of livingAllah hates the love,Allah hates the living.Allah fears and hatesAnd is not brave,Hiding behind a veil,Hiding inside a cave.Allah is afraidOf infidels,Of men who stand up straight,Of men who knowThat fear of life is not their fate.When Allah killsThe whole world knowsAllah is afraid.When words of joy,Flying from lips of dreamers---The thinkers and doers,The lovers of life---Strike Allah on the head,The sound thereof is hollow,The soul of Allah is dead.And Fear twists thereInto Hate's hot airTill Allah from AllahWould turn and run,But he can't escapeHis selfless soundAnd kneels in defeatWith head on ground,Back to sky,Eyes back hiding,With Death siding,Cold Fear triumphingIn shrunken ball of fleshNo more a man.Allah blows himself up bit by bitAnd that is all there is to it. ___________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 28 Jul 2005 · Report post I wrote this poem yesterday, sent it as a "letter" to The New York Times today.←I enjoy your poetry a lot, thanks for sharing it here. As far as the NYT goes, I can't imagine them publishing your "letter". It's far too truthful for them. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 28 Jul 2005 · Report post I enjoy your poetry a lot, thanks for sharing it here. As far as the NYT goes, I can't imagine them publishing your "letter". It's far too truthful for them.←I agree, but thought I'd give it a shot. I'm glad you've been enjoying my poems. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 31 Jul 2005 · Report post I wrote this for my niece, who just got her first job----in a bakery.Muffin MakerOh say, muffin maker,Got a muffin for me?"Yes sir, yes sir,What will it be?"I've got a sweet blueberry,And a raisin muffin, too;Or a soft banana nutCould be the muffin for you."Oh muffin maker, say,Banana nut would be fine;Add a choice cup of coffeeAnd the world is mine!"Yes sir, yes sir, That be the way;Eat up my muffinsThen-----happy all day!"I am the muffin makerAnd I make 'em best I can,And you're the muffin eater,Banana nut man!"______________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 31 Jul 2005 · Report post B. Royce, I love the benevolence of "Muffin Maker". It's such a fun, light-hearted, happy poem . Thanks for sharing. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 31 Jul 2005 · Report post B. Royce, I love the benevolence of "Muffin Maker". It's such a fun, light-hearted, happy poem . Thanks for sharing.←You're welcome Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 31 Jul 2005 · Report post Allah Is Afraid was daring and proud. Muffin Maker was cute and happy.Big Nose. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 31 Jul 2005 · Report post Allah Is Afraid was daring and proud. Muffin Maker was cute and happy.Big Nose.←And IS, too. Thanks. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 9 Aug 2005 · Report post This poem was written for some children I knew a few years ago.Exploring (2001)Exploring is the thing I sing;Exploring is my favorite thing;And I would rather die than say,"Exploring I'll not go today."Skate down a street that's curving new,Glide up a hill to get a view;A park to find with higher swingsTo kick a big tree's leafy wings.Then find a creek whose waters shine,Shout "Finder's keepers, it's all mine!"Grab a dollar off the bottom---"Wawa's drinks, hooray! I've got 'em!"Then pass a friendly house I know----"Very quiet, she's sleeping, oh!Don't yell her name, just scoot on by,Another day she'll wave us, "Hi!"And now back home by some strange route,A lo-ong shortcut, who gives a hoot?New things to see, new things to hear,Glowing with confidence, nothing to fear.The world was made for eyes to see,And mine are open----made for me!Exploring is the thing I sing;Exploring is my favorite thing.;And I would rather die than say,"Exploring I'll not go today."_________________________________The Red Fire-Engine (1976)The red fire-engine went speeding by,Blowing his horn clear up to the sky,And searching for smoke with a wary eye,To save the people and save the town,And keep all the buildings from burning down.The red fire-engine was bright and strong,He could put out fires the whole night long,And his wheels all whizzed as he sped alongTo save the people and save the town,And keep all the buildings from burning down.The red fire-engine saw the fire at last,Jammed on his brakes so as not to go past,Shot from his hose water real fastTo save the people and save the town,And keep all the buildings from burning down.The red fire-engine had real long armsTo help men battle the fire's harms;They stretched way up over houses and farmsTo save the people and save the town,And keep all the buildings from burning down.It's out! It's out! He's done it again!The red fire-engine and good strong men.He was built to last and he works to win,To win the people and win the town,And keep all the buildings from burning down.The red fire-engine is resting now;The firemen sit them down to chow;They're proud of their engine, and tell again howHe saved the people and saved the town,And kept all the buildings from burning down.___________________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 10 Aug 2005 · Report post Just a few lines on Discovery:Up through earth's atmosphere and out into space,Then millions of miles 'cross Reality's face----Oh, how he loves it, what a pleasure it gives!To see a man's triumph, to feel how he lives!And to know that the master he's worshipped so longHas proved once again to be risk-taking strong.Yes, Reality bows to the thinkings that dare,And man's stride lengthens with weightless care.________________________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 18 Aug 2005 · Report post I wrote this poem for my neice.Angel Sun and Rebel Star The sweetest child I've ever knownIs now a grownup girl;She knows her self,Her judgment's clear,She's competent and smart.And most of all she's logicalIn mind and soul and heart.Right now she dreams, and boasts, and sings,Of one who's just her type,Who thinks things through,Who's got a clue,Who has himself in hand,But disagerees with the world he seesAnd yearns to understand.They both hear much hypocrisy'Bout what is right and wrong,But follow their own reason outAnd guide themselves along.They've honesty and self-respectAnd love of their own sight,And always this----Logic's torch burning through the night.What is this night that's all around,Whose shadow chills the soul?That love of self is ill, unsound,That sacrifice is whole.But get this, that's amiss.For if you didn't love yourselfYou wouldn't breathe or eat;If your whole life you gave awayYour heart just wouldn't beat.But he or she you love the most,Who makes you feel more whole,Is like a glass you always passReflecting your own soul.So loving him is loving you,Him loving you the same,While sacrifice would mean give upYour one life's only game.Death---one, Life---zero,Before you've shot the ball;Death---two, Life---through,When sacrifice is all.The good self-love of rose and dove,Of sea and sun and sky,Becomes complete in summer's heatWhen happy lovers sigh.They sigh and kissAnd breathe in blissOf selfhood's love divine;Their minds say, "Yes,I understandWhat joyous work is mine."When I create,It's for myselfTo see and feel my soul;Look how it flares, builds, wakens, dares,And shapes the truth I give.Why, in myself and for myselfI stand and sing and live."The sweetest child,This grown up girl,Her lover strong, sincere,I hope they see themselves entire,Accept, and never fear;Nor crack Love's glass for others,Their glaring expectations,Their poisoned defamations,Their meanly razored pokesAnd ugly beastly smearing jokes.Shine, shine, shine against the wintry dayOf freeze-your-dreams-to-deedless-grey;And spear, O Star, against the nightOf trust-yourself-is-never-right,And while the night is not yet dayShoot! and blaze the dark away!Mirror, mirror, on the wall,Who's the bravest of them all?Angel Sun and Rebel Star,Shining real, seeing far,Taking in each other's light----Happy sparks of selfish might.________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 18 Aug 2005 · Report post Brian:Wow! It was so beautiful. So inspiring. A tribute to the eternal youth of man, as best exemplified in a deeply romantic relationship. A nice balance of adult rational serious traits; and the free acceptance of pleasure, and pleasure in the struggle despite bothersome other people. I'm tempted to send a link to my brother who is getting married in a Catholic church at the beginning of the next month. I don't know whether he deserves to read it. Or I'm worried that it might cause him some allergic reaction. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 19 Aug 2005 · Report post I wrote this poem for my neice.Angel Sun and Rebel Star [...]←You are really a brilliant poet. Thanks for continuing to post your work here. Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 19 Aug 2005 · Report post Thanks for the compliments; I'm glad to have happy readers. Here is a poem for the very very young:Away!Swing a little,Sway a little,Swing a little way;Aren't we so glad to be swinging today?Talk a bit,Laugh a bit,Talk a bit more;Or be like a lion, and let out a roar!Slide a way,Glide a way,Slide a way down;Then bumpity bumpity over the ground.Sing to be,Sing to be,Sing to be heard;Or chirp and acheep like a blue baby bird.Run a bit,Skip a bit,Run a bit fast;Catch us a butterfly flittering past.Walk a while,Walk a while,Walk a while slow;Watch how the flowers all quietly grow.Sit away,Lie away,Sleep away long;When we awaken we'll sing a new song.Dream away,Lift away,Over the moon;Searching the starlight and finding a tune.There it is!There it is!Speeding on by!Humming with joy in the summery sky!Mmm, and Mmm,And mmmm it goes,With shiniest wings and silvery clothes.It mmms over land,And mmms over sea;It mm mm mm mmmsFor you and for me.________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites
Posted 20 Aug 2005 · Report post Rest (1980)Deep in the meadow, downUnder thick trees,Slumbering SummertimeLies at ease.Limbs of the shadows thereStretch in the sun,Languidly striving withSunrays spun.Softer than silentnessFlowerbells ring;Louder than puffballsNot one thing.Robin nor sparrow nowChitter or peep;Fast in the bushesAll things sleep.Arrows of memoryGlide into peace;Quietly, silently,Sad things cease.Light as a melodyBlown upon air,Faint as a butterfly(Oh, fly fair!),Warm as the wind isOver high grass,Deep in serenityAll things pass._______________________At Last (2003)Alone at last;Door shut, window shut;No sound without, no one about;Roar of plane or train as far as stars.Yes, free me.I'm my light, I'm my song;Pencil-might etching on.Think a win, write it in.Alone at last, I'm strong.Yes, free me.Mistakes? I make them.So many. Hell yes!Just like a scientist,Trial and error, trial and error,Over and over, over and over,Get it, get it.................got it!Until I spell--------Success!I'll be the judge, thank you.One is enough, and I am tough.Yes, this is the height:Alone, a pencil, flight._________________________________Belizian Girl (2002)"Oh, Alice has an honest heartAnd a mind that loves the true.She thinks and acts and does her partTo make each morning new."And who is that Belizian girlWho stands between the palms?Who looks across the happy wavesAnd wonders what goes on.Will she come to AmericaAnd leave Orange Walk behind?What will the toucans and macaws sayWhen Alice they do not find?"O land of the free by the Carib Sea"The hummingbirds sweet will hum;"Our Alice will see what she will seeAnd do what must be done."From Belize City, this Alice, so pretty,Flew over the water so glad;Old Philadelphia, earth's freedom city,Shall never again be sad.The people cheer, dance down each street,They sing for joy all night,"With Alice here our town's completeAnd Life's new dawn is bright!"For Alice has an honest faceAnd a mind that loves the true,And she will think what she will thinkAnd do what she will do.____________________________________Profit (2004)Sunlight is flowing goldenOver the rough ungiving ego-hands of love,And all is happiness and justiceOn the body reverential and the profit of.________________________________________Brian Faulkner Share this post Link to post Share on other sites