Monday, November 03, 2014

So Jewel-Like In The Stirrups Flash The Outriders

[to the immortal voice of Ethel Barrymore-
to all the outriders of our language]

jewel-like in the stirrups flash the outriders

saving what can be saved of a forgotten line.
fitful sleep the children near the hills
that they forgot to climb.

when will you return, if ever,

my dissolving language, trebled with tears?
forever shining on the brink-
so lost! for years.

I hear it like a whispered snow

of maytime petals recherch√©
but who will clink the fairy tale chime
against the painted backdrop of her moons in storage?

portray: the silhouette of Juliet as once she was remembered
when brief, the nightingale was in tune
recedes into a ciphered gloom as
the audience streams from the garish marquees

pleased with themselves and
taking aim at the sound of waters
the sound of waters
outcroppings of the stars

beauty in exile far from the land

and the promontories
where the sea walls broke through.

and it's the odd story in an antique book

no one ever looks at now.
an actress floated in on
white rose perfume, in rose fraught dresses

stage post stage
in the jeweled stirrups outriding,,,

are you deriding, deriding

the sound of her own language so out of style?
where the heart was wedded to the
sacred names-

the Soul remains:
impervious in her dreaming voice - outlawed-
while the commonplace takes hold dressed
up in preening gold these after years

by foul-mouthed stage coach robbers
techni-ooloured turncoat generations of
the whatever.

but are you sure she's disappeared

disposed of by the Huntsman; unanimous
mirrors tuned to the unfair "Fair..."?

I hear a murmuring lapping at the cliffs

of ignominy, not dispossessed! angelic,
wearing away at the stone:

ah, the Mysteries; the voice unwearied, starry-

recitative as scented rains:
remains. Remains.

synchronized to an inner flame.

mary angela douglas 24 february 2014;rev. 3 march 2014;rev. 3 november 2014