[to the memory of Don Garner (who played The King)
and to my Father, Robert R. (Bob) Douglas. In Memoriam]
dulce et decorum est...my Father's newspaper was the best...*
all his kingdoms cried: you are going away!
and we the last breath witnessing
on the stage
do the dominoes falling edge to edge
displayed for the handkerchief benefits of lace
footlit, the fitful in the audience
and day has fallen,
all its golden suns;
Garbled: unto the Kingdom Come
and night, with its moon manes wavering,
trebled, troubling
the balcony scenes sans ladders,
cheering sections,
the princess caught
in the madrigal brambles
and the lute, abandoned.
for this little space
there was infinite treasure, grace
and Time grew large as a Heart
that set it all in lilac motion
swaying, and the fragrant winds
now are we scattering
the last of our devotions
and valentine wise-
in commotion,
the councils dissolved like comets
absolving the paucity, fragility
of the last words, Flare!
one last, at the landing of
crystal stairs', straitjacketed sighs,
the unclocked exiles clocked
no more seeing in disguise, hearing or bearing
the flights of birds distraught breaking off, disappearing
into the jeweled, and now, the unsyllabled worlds...headlines
the air quivering, teardrop diamond shivering
with what was here.
Before...
mary angela douglas 7 march 2018
*my Father's newspaper, The Arkansas Gazette.
and to my Father, Robert R. (Bob) Douglas. In Memoriam]
dulce et decorum est...my Father's newspaper was the best...*
all his kingdoms cried: you are going away!
and we the last breath witnessing
on the stage
do the dominoes falling edge to edge
displayed for the handkerchief benefits of lace
footlit, the fitful in the audience
and day has fallen,
all its golden suns;
Garbled: unto the Kingdom Come
and night, with its moon manes wavering,
trebled, troubling
the balcony scenes sans ladders,
cheering sections,
the princess caught
in the madrigal brambles
and the lute, abandoned.
for this little space
there was infinite treasure, grace
and Time grew large as a Heart
that set it all in lilac motion
swaying, and the fragrant winds
now are we scattering
the last of our devotions
and valentine wise-
in commotion,
the councils dissolved like comets
absolving the paucity, fragility
of the last words, Flare!
one last, at the landing of
crystal stairs', straitjacketed sighs,
the unclocked exiles clocked
no more seeing in disguise, hearing or bearing
the flights of birds distraught breaking off, disappearing
into the jeweled, and now, the unsyllabled worlds...headlines
the air quivering, teardrop diamond shivering
with what was here.
Before...
mary angela douglas 7 march 2018
*my Father's newspaper, The Arkansas Gazette.
