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The Poetry Of Brian Faulkner


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#1121 B. Royce

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Posted 23 December 2013 - 08:16 PM

Producer

 

Producer, Originator, Titan of Mind,

Material spiritual Man of Mankind,

Highest in Virtue, Noblest in Thought,

Master of Matter captured and wrought,

User of mountains scooped up for gain,

Lasher of oceans bounded and chained,

Joy of fair valleys citied and filled,

Gladness of plain-lands wheat-gold has thrilled,

Ego of mineshafts, brain-life of coal,

Self of the steel of manhood's control,

Rocket of reason, right in your aim,

Universe future---light of your flame,

Worshipper wholly and solely of one

Magnificent being who works the work done,

You must now sanction you as the cause

That reins in reality, grasping its laws!

 

You have been damned as a spiritual nought;

You, who were first in each battle men fought,

Bringing them fire, and comfort and health,

Giving their lives the most glorious wealth,

Saving their skins, working harder and late,

Wearing the worst of the curse of men's hate;

Atlas unbending, giant sublime,

Their hate of you---an immoral crime!

 

Speak, and declare it---"Virtue's my thought,

Weakness is wishing, nothing has brought.

Rational selfishness---that is my key,

Opening wider my mind that is me.

Trusting my vision, judging alone---

Jewels that are glitt'ring daring I've shown.

Now I am done with the creeds of deny;

MY moral creed is "'I' for my 'I'".

I am not guilt, but pureness of sun,

Aimed at my aim, my way begun.

Profits---I earn them, none of them yours;

Justice is justice while justice endures.

Pitiful needing, that's not a claim;

Who's wanting fire starts his own flame.

Mine the ability I have set free;

All that I make comes rightly to me.

Proud must I be, loving my worth,

Standing glad man, gladdest on earth."

Producer victorious, heeding those not

Who, whining, resentful, selves have forgot.

Men who would force me off of my course,

Knowing their living leans on my source---

Source that's my spirit, voice of my will,

Virtuous reasoning choice that I fill.

I am the engine, drive me I can,

I, the producer, highest of man."

 

Honesty---virtue, integrity, pride,

Valiant in worshipping all you have tried---

Effort unending---spiritual flight,

Truth never bending for any man's fright;

Youth in you always, joy born in place

There in the tightness sculpt in your face.

Face of man certain, sure you are good,---

Sing out your rightness!  God, but you should!

 

Soul of fair valleys nightless with light,

Spirit of gold plains grain does ignite,

Ego of railroads, highways---your soul,

Self of the conquering speed of far goal,

Rocket of reason closing up time,

Bringing the stars to an easier climb,

Worshipper wholly and solely of one

Magnificent being who works the work done!

_____________________________________________

 

Brian Faulkner



#1122 B. Royce

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Posted 24 December 2013 - 05:47 PM

Adoration

 

Love is true, love is long,

I love you over strong;

Joy is long, joy is true,

All my song just for you!

 

I as you, you as I,

Dim and dull pass us by.

Song of me singing you,

Long and long, true and true!

 

Self to self much the same,

Separated by a name;

Name of you flame of me,

Fire I you set free!

 

Though we're two, oh, yet one,

Separate thoughts just for fun;

Both our dreams coming true---

You as I, I as you!

 

I as you, you as I,

Common men pass us by;

Love in  me loves as you,

Long and long, true and true!

____________________________

 

Brian Faulkner



#1123 B. Royce

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Posted 08 January 2014 - 08:45 PM

Life-Line

 

Silent, he looked at the moon;

Silent, he looked at the stars,

Wondering at the light tune

Bright'ning his mind with its bars.

 

Not from the sky did it come,

Not from an air he had heard;

Just an original sum

No nature nursed in a bird.

 

Yet, not a composer was he;

Noting of notes not his line.

Whistling, he walks again, free,

Loving his dreaming so fine.

 

Stopping, he wrote down a word,

Added a few more for fun,

Wheeling more free than a bird,

Rising too fast for the sun.

 

Now, he'd the line of a song;

Thrice then he sang it, and four.

Felt he a joy in him strong

Whistling on up to the door.

 

His landlady said, "What's this?"

With inquiring, lightened eyes.

"Oh, but a sliver of kiss

Swinging its way to the skies."

 

Later she heard, as he sent,

That slim little sun-ray line,

And didn't ask for the rent,

Thinking, "Oh what wealth is mine!"

 

Came he to pay---a day late;

She admonished not at all,

Just said, "I really can wait,

But when will you sing it all?"

 

Silent, as looking at stars;

Silent, as looking at moon,

Head tilting from the bright bars

Adding themselves to his tune,

 

He whistled.  She whistled, too!

And slender new lines took flight,

And the wings of love flew true

Day long, and long into night!

_____________________________

 

Brian Faulkner



#1124 B. Royce

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Posted 02 February 2014 - 10:43 PM

Happy Birthday Ayn Rand

 

Ayn, Ayn Rand,

 

Most perfect moral being made on earth,

Made by selfish self---your honest mind,

Delivering exiled man's sacred worth,

His guardian teacher, his pilot, too,

Who sends him on his glorious way

To be the bannisher of false from true

And brand his reason with the light of day,

Inspiring songs that wing his name up high---

The soul-and-body splendor of heroic "I"!

 

Ayn, Ayn Rand,

Up-ending men's low morals with top thought;

Though hated for the words you wrote and said,

You touted sane ideas none had taught

And lived your truths, in love with where they lead.

Integrity of spirit and of act

Made you your final and exalted fact,

A self-sustaining gal of honest mind,

That shone, and shines, a light of wisdom true,

Through eyes that lead awak'ning men to you.

 

Ayn, Ayn Rand,

Most just, most benevolent because most just,

Praising man's proud works of "judge and do",

Creating citied walls from famished dust

By raining down his thoughts on things lit new,

Adventure-made by single, honest mind

To be each one to him as you to grand---

Independent, passion-living, free,

A signal-light of happy, waving hand,

Which beckons: grandeur's stations wait for thee!

 

Ayn, Ayn Rand,

Delivering man's radiant, sacred worth,

Most perfect moral being made on earth.

__________________________________________

 

Brian Faulkner

 

 






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