Jump to content


Photo

The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner


  • Please log in to reply
1130 replies to this topic

#1 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 04 March 2005 - 07:13 PM

I hope this is the right place for this. It is a poem I wrote back in the early nineties. It was written with young people in mind, but I think more mature people may enjoy it, too. I add, it could not have been written without the great influence of Ayn Rand.

Ours

The house is silent.
The air is heavy.
The dusty draperies
Stiff and cold.

But life, outside,
Our_ life, our secret,
Springs and sings
By the high stone wall.

They said, "If
You go beyond it
Down to Hell you'll
Scream and fall.

"You'll slide in sin,
Go down forever;
You'll twist in fire
And drown in greed."

But Hell is what?
Who really knows?
That massive hill
Is what we need.

"Thar mound", they said,
"Is much too high.
It isn't good;
It shouldn't be.

"Your eyes and knees
Must seek the ground;
Your head must bow
In humility."

We rise in darkness,
Me, my sister;
We lift the window
On what will be.

Afar we see
A silver star
Fire off where
No others are.

It doesn't wait
For something's call
Just goes, and
Doesn't fall.

Say! Do you see?
It's gone for good!
Like you and me,
Gone for good!

"Yes! I see!
Like you, like me,
It's gone for good!
Gone for good!"

"Stop this singing!
Don't be smart! God
Knows what is
In your heart!

"Don't let Satan
Make fools of you.
Heed this lesson;
Believe! It's true!

"Lights go on down;
Bright longings fail;
Such is life from
Day to dark day.

"Ours is never
To test and question;
Ours is only
To hope and pray.

"Selfish joy means
Burning sorrow;
Clamp your lips
And seal your loss.

"Make no proud music
For poor tomorrow;
Just do your duty
And bear your cross."

Now is anger,
Twisting anger,
Stinging eyes
Held dry and tight.

See our faces,
Me, my sister;
Read the mirror glaring bright.

See the straightening,
See the sharpening,
See the grasping,
Proud and sure;

See the lips
Ache to freedom;
Hear the taking,
"I am pure!"

Out the doorway,
Down the pathway,
Through the bushes
Curtain still,

Running feet
Spurn the Nothing,
Turn to Something
Nigh the hill.

Far from death
And far from fearing,
Coming, nearing,
Sudden, bright,

Ageless face,
Calm and searing,
Cleaves the clearing,
Killing night.

Now, the Wall,
Set to pen us;
Fear of Hell
To make us stay.

Look! the birds,
Branches swinging,
Might be singing,
"Here's the way!"

See! It is!
Right before us!
We were blind!
Lies aren't strong!

Winging eyes,
Almost flowing,
Skim the rim
Above the wrong.

All we are
Flies up skyward,
Seeks the star
That never dies;

Sees the hands
Reach up for freedom;
Hears "I have it!"
Clasp the skies!

Clasps the trees,
Clasps the branches,
Slanting up
Beyond the wall.

Wall of evil,
Wall of dying;
What care we
How hard we fall?

Hands are sweeping,
Bodies leaping;
O'er the wall
We're flying far.

Through a fountain,
Up the mm--ountain!
All we take
Is what we are.


Depth is passing,
Height is lasting;
Eye of Freedom
Beckons still.

Heart's desire
Needs the fire;
Look up higher,
Have your fill!

Who would doubt
Their eyes their seeing?
Who would want
A better boon?

Grip the rocks;
No more dreaming.
This is real,
Not a doom.

Yes, I hear them,
Just like always,
Wailing "Love!"
While hunting youth.

"Love!": to hold us,
"Love!" to mold us,
Love of guilt
To smother truth.

But we live,
And truth is rising;
Youth is smiling
To think and see.

What's ahead
Is hard of telling,
But no more "cure"
Of humility.

Nay! to praying;
No! to hoping;
No more shaming
Behind the wall!

Light is seeking,
Right is streaking;
Kicked-off burdens
Slide and fall.

One last measure,
One more pleasure,
Climb for treasure,
Grasp, and draw!

Sure the hour,
Pure the power,
Golden shower
Now is law.

Look! the world!
"Yes! I see it!
Gleaming, laughing,
Smart and tall!"

See! those lines there!
Silver runners!
Here's our treasure!
Stays, and goes!

Stays, and greets us;
Goes, and leads us;
Life's completeness
Ours to hold.

Aims the mirror,
Aims the steel,
Aims the spirit
Straight and bold.

All our singing,
All our grasping,
All our leaping,
Ours to bear.

High the beauty,
Low the duty;
Leave the Ghost
And breathe the air!

What we are
Stands, self-making---
Minds unbreaking,
Brash as steel.

Where we go
Reason knows it,
Leads the souls
That shall not kneel.

Rays of "I"
Climb to gladness---
You and I
That here have won.

Things of might
Sweep beyond us;
Here, around us,
Feel, the sun!

Brian Faulkner

#2 Aurelia

Aurelia

    Member

  • Members
  • 312 posts
  • Gender:Female
  • Location:Gilbert, AZ
  • Interests:Power engineering, industrial progress, and the history thereof. Also, cookery.

Posted 05 March 2005 - 05:51 PM

That was wonderful! :) I'm going to qoute you on my dormroom door.

Did you specifically choose that short clipped style with many verses, or did it just seem to fit? If you chose it, why?

~Aurelia
--
Amanda Carlson

Avatar: Detail of Aix Les Bains by Leonetto Cappiello

#3 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 05 March 2005 - 11:56 PM

That was wonderful!  :)  I'm going to qoute you on my dormroom door.

Did you specifically choose that short clipped style with many verses, or did it just seem to fit? If you chose it, why?

~Aurelia

View Post

Very glad you liked it. So, I'm going to a college dorm? Hey, first time.
Which stanza(s) did you have in mind?

After I read Swinburne's "Winter In Northumberland" (part one of Four Songs of Four Seasons), with its masterfully-handled short lines and close rhymes, I was filled with such deep delight I just had to try something of my own. My first thought was simply to express the cheerfulness of a new day, and the first stanzas were the ones about the sun ("Far from death" to "Killing night"), and I expanded from there. The last stanza I wrote was "Where we go...Reason knows it...Leads the souls...That shall not kneel".

Thanks for asking, and may you enjoy your door the more.

#4 Aurelia

Aurelia

    Member

  • Members
  • 312 posts
  • Gender:Female
  • Location:Gilbert, AZ
  • Interests:Power engineering, industrial progress, and the history thereof. Also, cookery.

Posted 06 March 2005 - 05:18 PM

Which stanza(s) did you have in mind?



I was thinking of the children's escape. The form you used gives a hasty rythem to the poem. It works very well when they are running away, you can almost feel the ecstasy/thrill of a mad dash away from all that is stifling irrational death. It's very beautiful how you use the form of the stanza there to dramatize the actions of the characters. I always appreciate when form perfectly follows function.

I was wondering whether you had explicitly thought of doing that, or whether you wrote it because it sounded right. I'm not a poet, so whenever I write poetry it's the latter. I am curious to know if you are a professional writer and if professional writer's think about such things while they are writing.

As to my door, it's much more beautiful now. :)

~Aurelia
--
Amanda Carlson

Avatar: Detail of Aix Les Bains by Leonetto Cappiello

#5 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 07 March 2005 - 02:18 AM

I was thinking of the children's escape. The form you used gives a hasty rythem to the poem. It works very well when they are running away, you can almost feel the ecstasy/thrill of a mad dash away from all that is stifling irrational death. It's very beautiful how you use the form of the stanza there to dramatize the actions of the characters. I always appreciate when form perfectly follows function.

I was wondering whether you had explicitly thought of doing that, or whether you wrote it because it sounded right. I'm not a poet, so whenever I write poetry it's the latter. I am curious to know if you are a professional writer and if professional writer's think about such things while they are writing.

As to my door, it's much more beautiful now.  :)

~Aurelia

View Post

Yes, I wanted the children's escape to be fast like a shooting star, without any doubts, just the certainty of being right.

I am not a professional writer, though I've been writing poetry pretty regularly since I was 14 (44 years ago), though I wrote my first poem at 8.

I have written a great many lines just because they "sounded right". Actually, in the final analysis, they MUST sound right, or out they go. Often, I have to completely change the original wording, or even re-arrange stanzas, to get the meaning right, but it must still sound right.

What do I mean by "sound right"? When I write I want to represent three things: an idea, some aspect of reality, and my emotions connected with these. They must all flow together and, since emotion moves, there must be a direction. Whatever that direction is, whether up or down , more intense or more relaxed, that end point, if you will, becomes one of my standards for what sounds right. At the same time, if the subject is, for example, a noisy place, there must be hard, metallic, banging, pounding sounds; or if a quiet meadow, watery-sweet soft feathery sounds. At the same time I want to be as clear as possible without taking away from the pleasure of speaking the poem. For, if there is no joy or delight in the speaking of it, in my book it is not a good poem no matter how great the ideas. A poem must be a pleasure to speak just as a painting should be a pleasure to see, and as music to hear. At the first it must be sensually alluring. :)

You say, Aurelia, that you write poetry, but are not a poet. So, you don't write it often? or you don't write stanzas with meter and rhyme, or it is not one of the most important things in your life? or?

I assume that you have favorite poems. Do you return to them frequently and read them (aloud, of course)? Has poetry been a long-time favorite of yours? Where do you rank it?

#6 Aurelia

Aurelia

    Member

  • Members
  • 312 posts
  • Gender:Female
  • Location:Gilbert, AZ
  • Interests:Power engineering, industrial progress, and the history thereof. Also, cookery.

Posted 07 March 2005 - 08:51 AM

What do you mean by "some aspect of reality"? How do you differentiate that from an idea? I would think that an idea is the recognition of reality.

You say, Aurelia, that you write poetry, but are not a poet.  So, you don't write it often?  or you don't write stanzas with meter and rhyme, or it is not one of the most important things in your life? or? 

I assume that you have favorite poems.  Do you return to them frequently and read them (aloud, of course)?  Has poetry been a long-time favorite of yours?  Where do you rank it?


I'm not a poet because no matter how well I might understand poetry I have no talent or great passion for it. I am primarily a scientist, but I find that the creativity necessary to being a scientist is simliar for being an artist or a writer.

I sometimes write poetry, but not very well, and only for me to read. Writing is very important to me, though, because it's my preferred way of expressing myself. So, I have taken a lot of writing classes through high school and now in college. In these classes, one of my favourite subjects is the function and necessary form of different genre, including poetry. Which is why I asked you about it.

I actually don't read very much poetry, but yes, I have my few preferred poems. I mostly read novels, the type you'd find in a "classics" section, but I have favourites in every genre. I read anything I love out loud and multiple times if I want to, including novels/non-fiction/poetry/plays. I'm kind of young, 19, so nothing has really been a long-time favourite. :) I started getting interested in all forms of writing about 5 years ago.

~Aurelia
--
Amanda Carlson

Avatar: Detail of Aix Les Bains by Leonetto Cappiello

#7 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 07 March 2005 - 03:33 PM

I should have said "physically concrete" (as opposed to abstract idea---not meaning that the abstract is not based on concretes).

I read many things out loud myself; I even found that much of OPAR reads quite well aloud.

#8 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 07 March 2005 - 05:29 PM

The following poem was written around the same time as "Ours". I wanted to see what i could express with even shorter lines and fewer different words.

A Snow Song

White snow,
Bright snow,
Light snow
Falling.

Slow wind,
Low wind,
No wind
Calling.

White trees,
Bright grass,
Light hands
Catching.

Eyes clear,
Eyes sweet,
Eyes bright
Laughing.

Grand clouds,
Glad clouds,
Huge clouds
Sweeping.

Joy sound,
Joy deep,
Joy high
Heaping.

Brian Faulkner

#9 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 08 March 2005 - 04:45 AM

After reading so many English poems in which "all good things come to an end", especially in regard to the seasons, I thought I'd turn things around.

Seasons

Old Summer sags, and whispers, "'Las".
I see her breathe in the slowing grass.
Stirs the Autumn her skirts of fire;
Winter's hands reach, freeze desire.
Spring swings 'round with radiant grace,
Young Summer catches, passions face!
_____________________________________

When the movie "Beauty and the Beast" was showing I got this idea for a trick poem.

"Beauty And...."

The added bliss
Of a double kiss
I multiply by four.

But should thou hate
This kiss of eight
Subtract me twenty more.

Divide by two
The dozen, true,
Then mirror thrice the six,

Upon my head
"....The Beast" be read
And faken you befix.

Brian Faulkner

#10 piz

piz

    Member

  • Members
  • 2,003 posts
  • Gender:Male
  • Location:Pennsylvania, USA

Posted 08 March 2005 - 04:12 PM

"Beauty And...."

The added bliss
Of a double kiss
I multiply by four.

But should thou hate
This kiss of eight
Subtract me twenty more.

Divide by two
The dozen, true,
Then mirror thrice the six,

Upon my head
"....The Beast" be read
And faken you befix.

View Post

Clever, that. :)
Michael
Blog / Twitter / Google+ / Facebook

#11 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 08 March 2005 - 05:11 PM

First Love (1982)

Though a sad day goes,
And a sad night comes
(For my Dear's not here with me),
I will bring up living
Our first-love's giving,
When out of the sea came she.

Her leap was as sweet wind was,
Singing sweet, and where white waves
Rushed downward, shedding brightness at her side,
Her spirit-wings went soaring,
The song of her was Pride.
Her face flamed into rapture
As she plashed upon each wave;
High billows swelled against her,
But how low to one how brave.
Her hands, in easy motion,
Caught a foam-bell at her knee,
Caught it up, and leaning shoreward
Blew it shining clear to me.
So light a thing, so fragile,
Yet it sailed above my hand,
While climbing through the combers
Strode all Beauty to the sand.

She, who saw me rising,
As in worshipping I rose;
She, whose tender love-poem
Was the pureness of no pose,
As I closed the reach between us,
Going softly through the tide,
Said to me, spoke words to me----
Great love-words undenied----
"Sing, O Man, make music,
Say desires here;
Our hearts have blended rhythms,
Our eyes make flames appear.
My limbs, and all my body,
My yearning blood and will,
For reign of thine are ready,
Thy loving lust to fill".

Huge waves crashed over gently,
Huge roar of them was sweet,
While flying bubbles shattered
All their flakes upon our feet.
Our hands were like half flowers
Feeling glad again to rise,
Then the petals pierced together
And the sun shot from our eyes.

I knew her dreams were Passion;
I knew her name was True----
True Love Of Full Possession----
That all my longings drew.
And though how scorched within me
My thirst kept welling up,
I knew my soul abstracted,
And speech spilled from my cup.

O Sweet Warm Mouth so perfect,
So justified to be;
O Rare High Brow a-shining,
Whose thoughts Love's deeds will be;
I sign my lips upon thee,
I sign my life and soul,
Shut out all gods but Beauty,
Make you my only goal.
Now with these waves competing
My coursing veins aspire
To be in your veins beating
Until my blood turns fire.

A universe of pleasure
Our bodies were, our minds;
We freed ourselves past measure,
Then sought a deed that binds.
And though such deeds devour
Until all flesh have rest,
Our minds, that never tired,
Were each to each addressed.

I questioned her, she answered;
We disagreed, and laughed.
Then word to word was mirrored
And we held ourselves not half.
Her strange bright eyes and body,
Her shimmering burst of hair,
Her silver globes of sweetness,
Her golden lyre fair.
And then, ah, yes, that silence:
No touch, no sigh, no moan.
Only Time not passing,
But I and my Love alone.

Such then, so much, and not lesser,
Our triumphing love-at-first-sight;
And now, as the tide goes ebbing,
I'm standing up glad and light.

So, as these waves slide outward,
Now, as these winds depart,
I'll steer out a song far southward
To the singer who has my heart.

"O Holy Flesh Divinest,
Of earthly mind and pride,
O Worthiest and Wisest,
Whose pulse is in my side,
Your "Yea!" to me be taken,
And so my "Yea!" to thee,
That past this day, half-shaken,
Sad days shall no more be.

Brian Faulkner

#12 Rose Lake

Rose Lake

    Member

  • Members
  • 1,488 posts
  • Gender:Female

Posted 10 March 2005 - 03:50 PM

I really like this one. But is it correct to infer from the title and first stanza that it is implied that the lovers were eventually separated by the choice of either one or both?
current avatar is a color-tinted b&w photo of Lillian Gish.

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

Fantasy is not a form of cognition. -- Leonard Peikoff, Expanded 2nd ed. of Introduction to Objectivist Epistemology, p. 116

#13 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 12 March 2005 - 02:04 AM

Here is a poem which might be sub-titled "Eden Revisited"

Stand Straighter

Stand stranger, O Love, stand stranger,
Stand straighter, and lift up thine eyes.
The wings of the sun sweep about us----
We, the gift of the earth to the skies.

We have done what the god has forbidden----
We have leapt to the boughs of our tree.
Yea, now the danger of height be unhidden
We laugh with how easy we see.

Fear was God's name, and of olden
We bent for halt steps of his feet.
Now the dareways of life wave open
And faints in our ears his half beat.

He has crawled under dust at our leaping,
Lies blind in the dust, and is dead.
Brave Sight takes his place and, out-leafing,
Glances true My-space ahead.

Brave Sight, that is stronger than Heaven,
And purer than peace in a grave,
And though Joy's not yet wholly unladen,
We are free, and we are not slave.

Step up, make it real----your desire;
No low-quitting effort should hide.
Reach lips in the name of our fire
Not curses of Hell can divide.

We have life, O Love, we are mortal,
And our blossoms of right are in hand;
Mid haloing rings of embracement
Our time-taking souls command.

Come, let's foot off this little dim shadow,
There's a full glad world to view----
Smooth ways or stony to march in or seek in,
Strong ways and first ways and true.

Yes, this is the grace of our_ giving----
That in choosing we use what we are,
And the courage of thought undeceiving
Outleaps any error by far.

Up now, the mountains await us;
They list for the beat of our feet.
"We are coming, Beyond, we are coming;
Thine existence shall soon be complete.

"We are coming, far birds, we are coming;
Wing out thy songs upon air!
Forest and River, we thy meaning deliver;
For the plans of REAL makers prepare!

"O Earth, O Rich Matter, Sound Being,
On Thee we do set out to win,
With Inquisitive Eyes now all seeing
And Masterly Thought without sin."

Stand stranger, O Love, stand straighter,
Show proudly the lust of thine eyes;
The praise of the sun pours upon us----
We, the gift of the earth to the skies!

Brian Faulkner

#14 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 13 March 2005 - 01:35 AM

Here is one of the most light-hearted pieces I've ever written. The words and the original music came together as one; however, since I don't write music, that part stays in my head. As a poem it reads a little fast, but I think you will still find it enjoyable.

............................More............................

I was looking for someone to love more than anyone I'd ever loved before;
From the east to the west, from the north to the south,
.................................................from the mountains on out to each shore,
All around the world, yes, I did roam,
And now that I've found you, Dear, I have my home.

Home is here, where you are, in your presence so bright;
.................................................I think night is a thing of the past.
Even dawning is dimmer when your eyes are glittering------
.................................................actual DAY at last!

Yes, I've found you, Dear,
Have you, hold you, Dear,
And I will never want more.
You are thoroughly, wonderfully, happily, totally,
................................................all that I mean by "more"!

I was looking for someone to love;
Right here, not below or above;
In the world that I know with the sunlight aglow
.................................................on the circle of everything good.

And I knew I could find you, I could;
Oh, I could and I should and I would.
I'd never stop trying and peering and spying
.................................................until I had found you for good.

Down each avenue, subway, market too, I went looking for you;
Buses passing by, copters on the fly, cabbies waving "Hi!" might hold a clue.

I was looking for someone so rare,
Who'd never a worry or care,
Whose eyes were ablazing with what is amazing
.................................................of everything e-ver-y-where.

And boy! she was happy to dare!
To dare to be true to the beautiful mind
.................................................that is under her glorious hair.

And,
I was looking for someone so strong,
Who would never do anything wrong,
Who'd sing the free way of her spirit each day
.................................................in her own individual song.

Into each library, romantic gallery, searching so thoroughly well,
Antique-book-coffee shop, jewelry store, auto-shop----
.................................................you might be there, who could tell?

I was looking and a-looking, and a-looking and a-looking,
.................................................looking all the night and all day.
Center of the universe, aim of all that I am worth,
.................................................oh where can you be? I did say.

Skipping through a mall so big, then out upon an oil rig,
Back into the fact'ries and warehouses, too;
Did you have a law degree, or were you trading companies,
Working somewhere sure to be, oh, where were you?

In the crowds around the town you might be suddenly found;
By a statue all alone you might be standing like stone;
Or walking to a tower fair, a turning door a-going there,
The marble floor a-gleaming there--- faint dreams of you.
Then riding up an escalator, strolling to an elevator,
Up atop a skyscraper, would I find you?

I was looking for someone to love more than anyone I'd ever loved before;
From the east to the west, from the north to the south,
..................................................from the mountains on out to each shore,
All around the world, yes, I did roam,
And now that I've found you, Dear, I have my home.

Home is here, where you are, in your presence so bright;
..................................................I think night is a thing of the past.
Even dawning is dimmer when your eyes are glittering------
..................................................actual DAY at last!

Yes, I've found you, Dear,
Have you, hold you, Dear,
And I will never want more.
You are thoroughly, wonderfully, happily, totally,
.................................................all that I mean by "more"!

Brian Faulkner

#15 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 14 March 2005 - 01:45 AM

.......Showdown....(2002)

Through shadows I go
A-walking real slow;
Heavy thinking 'bout you
And wanting to be with you.

Not a star in the sky,
Not a plane passing by;
Just the wind in my hands
A-wanting to hold you.

Then I picture your face
All a-smiling at me,
And I see how you stand
So proudly and free.

Then you walk down the street
And the dust whirls near,
And afar though you are
I am sure I can hear,

"You were wrong, so was I,
Let our quarrel go by;
I was right, so were you,
So let's end it anew."

There's a spring in my step,
There's a light in my mind;
Yes, a warrant is out
For the face I will find.

Only me, only you,
With our love-weapons true,
In the sunlight of we-----
All the clouds breaking through.

No matter the pain,
Or the long time apart,
You're always the right
Bright star of my heart.

A-walking fast
Along we pass;
Wind in our hands
It understands.

Now closer in
I see your eyes,
Desire gleams
Under the skies.

At last we stop,
The final stand;
Be quick to draw
At Love's command.

Firm lips now part,
Four hands spread out,
Just who's to win
There's not a doubt.

We're face to face,
We are the law,
We close our eyes
And then----we "Draw!"

Our arms like rings
Around us cling,
Our hands are squeezing
Everything!

Our lips a-blur,
Too close to miss;
We gun us on down----
With a fiery kiss!

Then crack! thunderbolts crack!
And a raindrop laughs on my frown,
And I see that you, oh you,
Are really not really around.

Through shadows I go,
A-walking real slow,
Heavy thinking 'bout you
And wanting to be with you.

Not a star in the sky,
Not a plane passing by,
Just the wind in my hands
A-wanting to hold you.

And I picture your hair
A-waving so free,
And I ache for your voice
To sing back to me,

"No matter the pain,
Or the long time apart,
You're always the right
Bright star of my heart."

Then you'll lose every chance
To stand there alone;
I'll be taking you in
To make you my own.

We'll be locked up in love,
Steel dream-bars aglow,
With no visitors' rights
For the shadows of woe.

And we both will agree
To this boast that is true:
"There's no top gun but me,
Unless it is you."

Now walking fast
With open heart,
Nothing between
But lips that part;

If we're to win
The final stand
Be quick to draw
At Love's command.

We're face to face,
We are the law;
We close our eyes
And then-----we "Draw!"

Our arms like rings
Around us cling;
Our hands are squeezing
Everything!

Our lips a-blur,
Too close to miss;
We gun us on down----
With a fiery kiss!

Then crack! thunderbolts crack!
And a raindrop laughs on my frown,
And I see that you,

Who? Who is that standing there?
Oh my God, can it be?
Yes, it is she! it is she!

"I am the law,
So I came on back."
So am I---------Draw!

Crack! Crack! Crack!
_____________________

Brian Faulkner

#16 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 15 March 2005 - 06:23 AM

Dedicated to the spirit of Ayn Rand and the greatness of New York

.................................Make Way!...................................

Out of the house, onto the road, flying through dawn, aglow,
In my grand car, away, aiming on straight, I go!
The greening gray of trees flows up and down the moon----
Pale slice slid 'round in leaves with piping tune!

Now hills go sliding back as fact'ries glide my way,
And steel towers' stacks vie up to graze the day!
Long trains now dive on by where tunnels roar their might,
And pile-drivers clang! to hold the earth so tight!

Then puff! O Breath Of Steam, while pulsing thunders grow;
Around this p'rading place the only song is-----"Go!"
Big bannered trucks, now gun it; horns, like trumpets, blare!
The start is near----I'll make it. Park. Stand up. Look there:

Walls arising, ladders climbing, cables, cranes, stretched to haul;
Wires sailing, pipes connecting, mixers spin before the call!
Sirens, then re-hailing men----adjusting belts and eyes:
"Up", they wink, "link together; up and up till rise is RISE."

But wait; the boss, he's here. He motions all to stay;
His calm gray eyes like granite, on this, the job's last day.
"It's up-time, it's praise-time, and time to hail the plan.
I'll start. The pride of earth is not itself, but man.

We are the deed----Achievement----strapping down to grow;
Man's work is all our glory; not just tell, but know.
And ours, it's so inspiring, and such high theme for song,
Days past pass into present to make our future strong.

From soft red hills out-taken, glad-tossed into the fire,
This dust of earth, now solid, lies waiting man's desire.

The sky-arm swings a belt out to eager hands that catch,
And soon that waiting single will find a grating match.
So tightly, now, one pulls it; hooks it, clamps it in;
Waves up and up and over; sky-arm roars to win!

Dull bit of dust now wakening, points a finger----there!
Now on atop the shaftway to land a master's care.
Hat's orange within sky's blue, his tan fist opens, speaks;
The aim of life is perfect, sky man is what sky seeks.

He's mounted, reached down under, bolted all secure,
Then waves the fire over to make them one for sure.
Fire, Flame---his Prometh'an name---he's not far by;
To jet the 'ought' of he who thought he knows just why.

His boots out-edging beam-edge, in ripple-blowing clothes,
Flame swings above a cloud-head, stops, and bends down, slow.
He kneels, grins---he likes it---visors, sets, takes aim;
One measured "Yes!" goes torching, and seals the steel frame.

Our hands lead lasting charges, eyes are sharp to see;
Our swelling, swagg'ring motto: "Bring it on to me!"

Once, this lot was only rocks and vacant space,
Empty, lost, in need of man's fulfilling grace.
He came---the self-made maker; said, "I want it here",
His shining eyes of reason speaking profits clear.

His shoulders high, yet easy, knew weight just wouldn't count;
His brow---the brand of sunrise---nodded Risk to mount.
With black, great eyes o'ertaking, glad to clasp and bind,
He stood, live as lightning, and calmly flashed his mind.

His speech of 'Man, Self-Starter', each my-way sharp'ning word,
Must sire a mind-souled spire, so he could see his word.
Softly, then, he vowed it, '...gold tower raised to Pride,
Foe long-range traders pushing through what able men decide.'

He spoke of business stacked, horizon-poised for flight,
Where level hands steer ventures to treasures half in sight.
A place where men of purpose can merge their life's decree
With every plan that promises a house of wealth to be.

Height over shimm'ring height he sang them, stainless, one---
Glassway, stoneway, steelway, Man's way leading sun.
Off then he went himself to plan; his conscious goal:
To weld the greatest trademark of man's creative soul.

Days on days together ideas rose and blazed;
His workroom was the world, his plateaued desk upraised.
No gift, no luck, no secret; just logical thought, and then,
Life's clear cold eye was speaking as he stood firm with pen.

Mountains, forests, beaches, taken, struck in fine,
With thirsting laws pursued the cause of earth's new grand design.
Marble, granite, concrete, wood and ink and sand,
Stainless steel and plastic, together came to hand.

Nights on nights together, leaning skyward, through,
His life was one 'Forever!' that drew and drew and drew!
Forty, sixty, ninety----just fifty floors to go.
He couldn't stop? He wouldn't stop('Now push, and go!')

Through flashing days he drove it---the line of perfect sight;
Down slender hallways dashing, then out, to angle right.
Then up and on to follow, in glowing even glide,
The mind's new flight of triumph, with pilot Pride to guide.

He soared up through the present, he edged the future, light,
And yes, his hand was burning to strike the gold through night.
For weeks he worked, then months; then four, then five.
Just two more days to go, then strike it real alive!

Joy stood him like an I-beam, braced, without a sound,
As if his body was this body, sky to ground.
But then he saw it; 'Hey, this topmost angle, not quite right.
It throws the whole thing off somehow, but, it should be right.

'Step away. Come back. Not right. Do it again.
Yes, that's good, so clear. It's still wrong; do it again.'
He halfway penned the finish, paused, then-----didn't sign!
For pulling down below him were humble things not fine.

From ninety, to the top, same beams and same mistakes.
If walls upgre as then he drew, the shining vision......
He faced the truth unfailing, 'I've taken 'safe' for 'right',
Blacked in a low-way standard and copied what I got.

'And added more material, dense weight that wouldn't hold;
Fitted youth with aged untruth, to sink as it were old;
Let live a thick tradition, set foot-like wings to fly,
Gave joy a state of sorry fate and shut away the sky.

'Too easy I had thought it, as if mere will were flight;
As if delight in seeing height itself was height.
Now, error's not immoral, but close your eyes----it's fact.
Look at it square and take it; re-think, then act.

'Yes, useless all self-rending; hands, repairing, win.'
Up to his bending flight he went and hauled it in.

Each line that backed around in wrong-way cross display
Was flicked aside, or crumpled up and thrown away.
He pulled in stacks of hours, ripped apart the false;
Old-fashioned bars of iron flew straight on down to loss.

He stood, he grasped the problem; the question questioned through:
'How this? Why that? Can it be done? And this, where to?
How much? What kind are these? How far? And what is this?
And where're you going, and what's your central purpose? Focus!'

On into night he answered, one single lamp turned high.
Invention's pace set all the place on high and high and high.
'Now this join up to that and these, and every part to whole;
The whole's the spreading context, so give it wide control.

'What? you're getting tired? your back aches? So? Irrelevant.
You know you're going to get this. Yes, I'm going to get it.'
Loved inch by inch he sought it----this rearing searing line;
Winged ledge by ledge he got it----'The shape of truth is mine.'

Then, o'er slanting table neat, last paper standing by,
He looked out glassways clear on all things whole and high;
Whole and strong, silent, sharp-edging night's veiled fall.
And what he saw was titans, unmoving, straight, colossal.

Soaring, independent, thought climbing after thought climbing,
Individual, standing alone-----hundreds-----ready for Start's time.
They carried dawn on powering gray shoulders of imperious grace
While stars flicked out lightly down each quiet narrow space.

And tallest there, our brother, man's reigning soul uptown,
Hurling glory all about him with his radiant silver crown.
Aslant, back through the glass, bare, standing on her terrace,
Singing o'er an empty lot, one goal he had not forgot-------

"Through day and night I love, I love this sacred height;
I love the mind that made it rise so proud and light.
And my own joy I love, that hails this human sight:
Just sleeping dust awakened by hands of thinking might."

And slow, the factory smokestacks flowed, and woke, it seems,
Glad to be wholly speaking their fleet-assembling dreams.
Behind, a slender curl of silv'ry light swung way
Way out, then down, braceleting a wrist of the sea.

Again he pressed the ruler, he bore in steel anew;
Restacking earth was his sole worth as he drew all lines true.
Intensity gripped, all ready; Reason steered him straight;
Perseverance, 'On, go steady! There is no time for late!'

He stacked horizons golden, slant-out-winged for far,
For men whose winds of reason whip up dreams that are.
He drew this selfish glory of his, and yours, and mine,
Then cast a higher naked stone of climbing man divine.

She there, too, sky-wearing, o'er birds that veer and bow,
While Beauty sings to Daring, 'Another age is now'.

He finished; came to us; then challenged us to clasp
Ourselves to mastery in this life on earth we have:
'This paper's bright; it weighs the light of what I am, will be;
And as I stand a sky-line man, tall men stand you with me'.

Yes, then, as now-----all set and geared to go;
For when his plan was rolled out the earth began to glow.

Then we---the Builders---bore on down,
....................................we blasted, pounded, tore.
We flung old boulders far away
....................................and sunk the massive floor.
Then upward drove the loved command
....................................of Will and Skill and Aim;
While thunder spoke through hamm'ring hands
....................................the sky-arm went! and came!

We struck wide flights together with
....................................deep shouting chords of 'Done!'
In glinting, dusty weather, yes!
....................................we cheered a graying sun!
We challenged rain with mantime, ah,
....................................our passion catching hold!
Storm? We bristle lightnings---hah!
....................................they brush the air with gold!

We rise with clean-swung purpose and
....................................we climb through wind and cloud;
We scan, we thunder higher, and
....................................we lift 'I can' so proud.
So proud of high endeavor, yea,
....................................so proud to think and plan;
So proud to pass the sun with 'Hey!
....................................Here's the light of Man!'

Now lift these walls and clasp those girders; swing this granite, turn that glass;
Check the bolts and rivets holding all this rising man-made mass.
Come press this hard, thought-shapen matter; see this mind-created might;
This ringing singing body, this lifting soul made right!

This, it soars; we know it. We'll be in flight all day.
The course is straight, he set it; the order's firm, 'Make way!'

Brian Faulkner

#17 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 28 March 2005 - 03:10 AM

The Pilot's Song

On steel wings I sail the sky, I go.
A shining line of mastery I am.
I rise above the rising sun,
I claim the night when he is done;
The sky surrenders everything;
A silver-shining steel wing am I.

I fly up into the feather blue;
I glide above the mountain dew;
I even skim a cloud or two;
A going, flowing, glowing thing am I.

If storm surrounds my even way
I bolt on through and burst away.
With power-flash and thunder-roar
I lift my wings and soar-----away!

And flying, flying, flying over the land,
I look below and see a waving hand.
Out o' the clouds, into the sun,
Lookin' away, give it the gun!

And speeding, speeding, speeding, I am free!
To make my bank or go on out to sea.
Out o' the clouds, into the sun,
Lookin' away, give it the gun!

Now cities raise on up to me
Their radiance of jewelry;
I gaze, and glide on by.
New factories are smokin' low
To make the many things that go;
I near, then veer up high.

Then diving, climbing, driving over the train!
It takes the ore to make another plane.
Out o' the earth, into the blue,
Now it is old, now it is new!

And soaring, soaring, soaring I do go;
I love this place that has no trace of woe.
Everything's fine, all I can see;
Happy to sign, give it to me!

On steel wings I sail the sky, I go.
A shining line of mastery I am.
I rise above the rising sun;
I claim the night when he is done;
The sky surrenders everything;
A silver-shining steel wing am I.

I see upon a future time
When next to me one, too, will climb;
Her face will show the mastery, I know.
We'll sail into the morning air,
Or twilight air, or midnight air;
We couldn't care, we go!

Then diving, climbing, driving over the train!
It takes the ore to make another plane.
Out o' the earth, into the blue,
Now it is old, now it is new!

And soaring, soaring, soaring I do go;
I love this place that has no trace of woe.
Everything's fine, all I can see;
Happy to sign, give it to me!
_______________________________________

Triangle

Above me clouds halfway turn
Pink, gold blue, purple green,
Cool and lovely and cheer.

I walk to the edge of the ledge and stop.
Below the mountains, far far below,
A slender curl gleams
And disappears.

Beyond,
The sun is bowing....bowing.........gone.
And on a rock behind me,
Stepping out, one hand on one high hip,

The rhyme of my song, the reach of my climb,
Smiling, in ecstacy, hair flung out, pointing,
To me, to the rock, to herself.
________________________________________

Thanksgiving

She stands like April on the balcony,
Yet brighter, surer, lovelier.
And she knows her place, and lifts her hands
Through the skyway, lighter than clouds that pass,
Then down to towers, to factories, to statues,
Gently, as though touching them, her fingers gold.
And she takes them to her breasts, her lips, her forehead,
And her glad face glows, her sky eyes greaten,
And she sings, "Mine are all the workings,
All the profits, all the beauty:
This live mass, these proud forms, my body, I!"
________________________________________

Brian Faulkner

#18 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 30 March 2005 - 05:19 AM

Life

The foolish hand but air does hold;
The reckless, blood and scars.
The sure one pockets all the gold
And steers the man to the stars.
______________________________

The Revolutionary Bee

Close in the roses
The rose-bee dozes;
Oh what a shirker, he.

Asleep in the lily
The lily-bee, silly,
Yawns so languidly.

Down in the daisy
The daisy-bee, lazy,
Dreams of a honey-bee, sweet.

Up in the honeycomb,
Buzzing with Boston,
Dumping the honey, he!
___________________________

Pouring

Pouring sunlight from the bowl of night
My eyes were misty, my hands like love.

I poured it all, I could not stop it;
Day ran splashing over my feet.
________________________________

The Mind Of Man

I stand on the earth and I work out a plan
To have all I desire.
I know what to do, and I shall go through;
I am the mind of man.

I test every place, I see what is here,
Buried in deep, half-hidden.
I know what to do, and I shall go through;
I am the mind of man.

I dare all the earth to keep what it has,
"Hold tight! long as you can!
No giant rock will turn me aside;
I am the mind of man."

I blast, and I drill, I drive endless still;
It gives me nothing easy.
I laugh and I sing for that very thing;
I am the mind of man.

Pry I, and pull, till my hands are too full!
I have all I desire!
I stand on the earth with all I am worth;
I am the mind of man.
____________________________________

A Man

They fed him the word of God,
"To make you good", they said.
But he spat it back at them
And their ears were a lovely red.

They shouted the word of God,
"To lead you true!" they said.
But he only smiled, then sang,
"I walk alone till I'm dead."

And he walked alone through time,
And he rode alone through space,
And the light of a godless rhyme
Shone as the sun on his face.

"From star to star I stride,
From God's to Manhood's height.
Strange worlds on either side
Touch me with a wondering light.

"I wave them a happy hand,
And they sing back with glee,
'He's Man, he's in command,
He sets his great soul free!'

"I mount with my ship the sky;
I go where I think I can.
I'll follow my mind till I die,
From beginning to end a man."
______________________________

Independent

Not with the aid of government
Was SpaceShipOne so sharply sent,
Nor did its heroes pray;
Capitalistic, atheistic,
Firing Mastery all the way.
___________________________

Brian Faulkner

#19 B. Royce

B. Royce

    Member

  • Members
  • 4,423 posts

Posted 31 March 2005 - 02:18 AM

Practice

Grand piano for hands that take command,
Speaking keys and rods and hammers,
Striking new, softly, felt on steel strings,
Felt of the soul dreaming, laughing,
Ringing, as it vibes into the wood
The do-able dong! of indelible swellable song,
The fusable ding! of how thinly and fragible thing,
The beautiful beat of repeatable needable gain----
The phrase that skips in the sky-----
"Undefeated too, am I!"
Ringing, hammering, playing,
Again and again and again!
__________________________________

Night's Done

Are these mere babies' eyes
That claim all starry skies their own?

There is no crown here
......but a soft brown down
......for queen or kingly sign.

One finger points, nails Mars;
One calm palm pats the moon.
Baby smiles, and we know night's done soon.

Done soon? Done now!
Shade eclipsed by radiant lips and brow,
By smile mild face that leaves no trace in ours
Of sorrow's powers or twilight hours.

Some fools be wait till day to see light;
We but see our baby----the sun is bright.
________________________________________

Direct Perception

My professor of Mod. Philosophy
Said his senses were not right,
That when he thought he saw a tree
It really was not sight.
"'Tis but a dream", he said to me,
"Of the higher true reality."

A student, new, untried,
I mused, and then replied,

"The me you see in front of you
Is not the me that's really true.
Your eyes distort and change the facts
As even now I swing my axe.
Direct perception to attain
Grasp the blade within your brain."

A student error, alas!
For I failed and he passed!
__________________________________

I Am Real

I am real, you said, when I met you,
Not a dream that'll one day forget you.
If you're looking for a star
..........shining down on you afar
It won't get you anywhere,
..........'cause I'm not there.

I am here, I am solid and breathing,
The chance of a lifetime for you;
If you want what you want without grieving
Act to make your dream come true.

Take a step, reach out, come closer,
Swing your arms clear 'round me and hold;
Pull me in, touch lips, smell the roses;
As a poet once said, "Be bold".

You are you, I am I, just one gal and one guy
Who are gardens of joy to each other;
I am I, you are you, with just one thing to do----
Say goodbye to dreamy wonder.

For the grass is not greener on the other side,
And the moon is not brighter than sun.
Now you've got what you want don't be fearing your pride;
You've sought, you've found, you've won.

We are real, we are here, and the truth is so clear
That together so better are we;
We have love, we have life, we'll be husband and wife,
In this solid reality.

I am real, you said, when I met you,
Not a dream that'll one day forget you.
If you're looking for a star
..........shining down on you afar
It won't get you anywhere,
..........'cause I'm not there.

I am near, I am flesh, I am standing-----
A wide-awake statue for you;
If the art of your heart wants commanding
Act to let a dart come through.

Don't be wishing and hoping and fishing and groping
For things that are purer than pure;
Don't be begging and crying and wailing and sighing
And praying for impossible more.
Though I can't sing cantata and I'm not Apollo,
This singular me is sure.

Take a step, stride in way closer,
Press your arms tight 'round me and hold;
Look straight, touch lips, free the roses;
As a poet once said, "Be bold".

You are you, I am I, just one gal and one guy
Who are gardens of joy to each other;
I am I, you are you, with just one thing to do----
Say goodbye to dreamy wonder.

For the grass is not greener on the other side,
And the moon is not brighter than sun;
Now you've got what you want don't be fearing your pride;
You've sought, you've found, you've won.

We are real, we are here, and the truth is so clear
That together so better are we;
We have love, we have life, we'll be husband and wife,
In this solid reality.

I am real, you said, when I met you,
Not a dream that'll one day forget you;
If you're looking for a star
..........shining down on you afar
It won'r get you anywhere,
..........'cause I'm not there!
___________________________________

Brian Faulkner

#20 Stephen Speicher

Stephen Speicher

    Administrator

  • Admin
  • 7,870 posts

Posted 31 March 2005 - 03:09 AM

Direct Perception

My professor of Mod. Philosophy
Said his senses were not right,
That when he thought he saw a tree
It really was not sight.
"'Tis but a dream", he said to me,
"Of the higher true reality."

A student, new, untried,
I mused, and then replied,

"The me you see in front of you
Is not the me that's really true.
Your eyes distort and change the facts
As even now I swing my axe.
Direct perception to attain
Grasp the blade within your brain."

A student error, alas!
For I failed and he passed!

View Post

This is just great! Thanks.
Stephen
stephen@speicher.com

Ignorance is just a placeholder for knowledge.

Forums.4AynRandFans.com is a place that holds knowledge.




0 user(s) are reading this topic

0 members, 0 guests, 0 anonymous users