FOR DYLAN THOMAS IN THE DARK BLUE DUSK, THE GILDED DUST OF WORDS (REPOSTED)

 

FOR DYLAN THOMAS IN THE DARK BLUE DUSK, THE GILDED DUST OF WORDS

(for the poet Dylan Thomas)

as you were singing that the givers of Light

would have no end that the green rills

growing greener would furl in waves

about us ever near and clearer from year to year and that the

sun dipped in the clouds down low

would ever arise

somewhere farther beyond your white roads' chrism

we forgot that poetry is not prose

and no longer gathered the rose upon rose in praise

the once upons.

so that the prismed web broke

apart weeping

and with it the human heart

my heart and where

and what and how in Art will the angels come

to trouble the springs again my friend

my friend so that healing descends

when your voice is stilled

when the news is all we know

I cannot comprehend

only that vaguely

blue and darker blue with the dusk

as your disguise the village from afar

you 'll view

and weep for Wales and all you knew

the vast tendrils conquered and subdued

for all that meant to you.

and we go casting about in sighs

mere ghosts of ourselves

forgetting what you knew.

that bright words, should not be spare

but myriad, like the stars.

mary angela douglas 24 november 2016;22 october 2021

TRANSLATIONS

TRANSLATIONS

(to Hans Christian Andersen)

she says "teardrop"

which translates "earring'

or the slip of a moon

left behind to shine

to waver with the lustre of pearl

in the dimming evening

what are words anyway

compared with the brilliance

of stars clouded over

the eye of the nightingale

ruby in its setting

the Emperor, breaking down.

mary angela douglas 21 october 2021

DIRGE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY

earth stand still that tears may gather

drowning the sun

the firmament entire

earth stand still

let wind quench fire

let the windows of the stars

draw down their shades

let business grind to a halt in May

at the height of Spring

for the grief that is hidden in the every day

and in everything

for the worldwide grief

that is never timed out

but that somewhere rears its snake hooded visage

or with its pincers bites the lovely moment and stings

in the out of the way with callous witnesses or none

and brings to its knees even one unsuspecting

civilian of good will or Christmases 

our heads be bowed, our heartbeats to silent tolling wrung

that even one child is struck down with a momentary hand

while the traffic roars ahead to progress and good times

to satisfy a whim or nothing at all now,

as in ancient times.

mary angela douglas 20 october 2022;20 february 2023

NO MORE THE SAME

no more the same

the soul blisters its cage

in a blue lightning rage against the grounded flights

of earth's inconstancy

stand on the wheel of time

and do not faint

when the sky crushes in and the clouds are

falling even in the raspberry light

and the singing birds fly helplessly

into the silver abyss with their language of

meadowsweet, meadowsweet

beyond earth there is bliss

after numb lamentation

hold on;

wait for the lilac passages to come

God understands

your plight.it won't be long.

mary angela douglas 20 october 2022;23 october 2022;20 february 2023

NURSERY RHYME TOTAL RECALL

no more sass. sassafras

sarsaparilla, golden vanilla.

tell me a story, morning glory

shake your head, oh, instead

cherry coke, rootbeer float

burgers, fries more besides

chocolate treat, oh so sweet

roses scrawled, on the wall

not in trouble, double bubble

big surprise, tell no lies

forget the words, mockingbird

sing away, the drizzly day

till at last its time to say

say your prayer, teddy bear

full of grace, in this place

I love you, course you do

get some rest.

spelling test

have no fright.

pink nightlight

God is good

God is good.

mary angela douglas  19 october 2022

I DO NOT WEEP OVER THE DEATH OF SNAKES

I do not weep over the death of snakes

I shall not weep over the death of snakes

knowing how everything turned out in Eden

and that, for my baby sister's sake

our collie, Fearless risked her life on a

summery afternoon

batting a striking cottonmouth away

from her and died in battle

and so

however much I become addled even unto

the most advanced age

I will not weep I will not keep a fond spot 

in my heart for snakes

seemingly inert or otherwise disguised 

be they unrustling in the leaves on the ground

or in pretty brilliant colors coiled  all

around in seconds mimicking a coral sunrise

in the overgrowth of the woods

the innocent and the good.

mary angela douglas 18 october 2022;20 february 2023

TO THE UNKNOWN POETS

your soul, singing above the wilderness

is heard by angels, light years on their way,

stray stars.

fragments of star showers

blasted out of their shining perhaps

by covert experiments.

your Soul,honey of pears

no despair

fine as mist wasn't missed except by God

lived raggedly in the past tense barely shod

but sang on earth notwithstanding

a bird in cactused exiles 

courting invisible roses

and the jeweless Nightingale.

grow pale as dawn now, fade from the fading.

no second guessing. poet in waiting.

may your memory be a blessing, your least 

call.

to those who forget to

acknowledge you.at all.

mary angela douglas 17 october 2022;20 february 2023

For These So Many Graces Lord I Forgot To Tell You About Before

these things may I thank You for as well:

the memory of bells glass choired

the crust on the day like bread

warmed by the sun

the books that lead you

into the magic gardens one by one

yet don't wall you in

the crunch of snow new glazed

the lighthouse beam

through uncertain haze

the cooling drink on high summer days

of blended fruit juice welcoming

and dream fragmented sleep

when each dream is 

like letting light in through a star flecked

window shade, twice over light we called it

the stray things in a drawer kept that at odd 

times I recollect

and costume jewelry scattered tangled

in a child's own galaxy

(when it falls to the floor imparting secret 

radiances from the chalice of a jewel box)

you're getting a little wordy smiled the sun,

the tap of reprimanding rain at the door

and the March winds sweeping down a hill

how I adore

with the fairy tales of the evermore 

as translated by Hans Andersen.

and staying home

for any reason at all.

and being comforted

when you feel as small as Alice

tearful beside the garden door,

she cannot breach;

the key strategically high up

on the crystal table she cannot reach.

unless you intervene.

mary angela douglas 16 october 2022;7 august 2023

ADVICE BEFORE BOARDING THE DREAM FERRY

have a bit of cake

washed down by starlit waters

an elderberry flower

do not your prayer forsake

it may do you good

lost children in the wood

who stray too far

take a glow worm in a jar

be guided by small things after graduation

the moss on trees

the leaves when they turn gold

weathervaning in the evenings

and when it's cold, take your sweater

tell yourself the warmest stories.

God will know what to do.

if you listen, He'll tell you.

mary angela douglas 16 october 2022

ON A LONG AWAITED OCCASION

on a long awaited occasion

the Soul said to the Night

this is the last nocturne

to the music inside invisibly weeping

at the piano;

on the merry go round in broad daylight

the last flight oh Pegasus

the one caparisoned in all the colors melting

down

melting down the universal candle

branches in the sky into a foreign candelabra

where the moon will fly from its flywheel

discovering other coasts again

bereaving the princess in the wistful tower

and through the scudding hours

forget, forget the histories of men

to flower like a gardenia

God's own heart to win.

mary angela douglas 16 october 2022

I HAVE BEEN AWARDED

I have been awarded

the moon and the sun

the small stars indiscernable at dusk

but that will surely come;

outrageous Grace

to seek God's face,

dried roses from a childhood made of pinks

and blues, pale greens

the ozone scent of orchid rains

in what I breathe and drink in only

are they only I inquire of you and wistfully

dream birds that warbled

over the fruited plains of all you are to me,

America, lost and gained

and shimmering beyond all realms of OZ;

what faith in you could mean!

I have been awarded

year after mystic year past all blank absences

bright options to be grateful while still here

even for as my Grandmother said,

"this vale of tears"

this vale of tears and the afterthoughts that 

linger past all our carnation pretty years

and april, april everywhere

in flower at least in mind my epithalamium

of days too fugitive and the ties 

that bind

past all too human despairs,

disparities, the amber legends reclaimed

that we might seize the ghost lit fires of

Icarus again

never blinded by the sun fueled veerings,

vertigo

when all, when all, my soul, is never

said and done and disappearing

but a golden becoming

for all words are not lost when the heart is 

side winded

they are merely foundlings beyond

the probabilities of rust and dust

seeking their Forever

in us, we happy laden few

who love still love the Christmas Baby in the

manger:

the poets minor and major

the sweet musical arrangers

without disclaimers.

mary angela douglas 15 october 2022

QUANDRY

forgetting how to breathe the way they made you

mermaid on land it's really hard to dream

leaving the green blue tides and former hauntings

the coral and the occasional slipstream

what is it then to learn to somehow glide here

no one on earth could translate better than you

but how to translate without even a language

no one can tell you how to manage to.

mary angela douglas 13 october 2022

THE FAIRY GODMOTHER SHOOED FROM THE DOOR

I know things about the things you know

that you think demonstrate you are the grownup

of all grownups

and so at your doorstep I can no longer go

with my little may baskets,

even with my best wand

and rhinestoned spectacles, my folk art dress

and beads

my fairytales unimpeded

to lead you gently back to before you grew

to know so much that isn't good for you

who don't know who you are at all

but when you were a child, you knew

I remember back that far among the rustling

trees a mysterious

moon...the lavender blue

in the world you must choose not to be

thought so wise or falter into their disguise

to be truly you you must be a simpleton 

like when you were twelve and still tossed

gold into the wishing well

gold coins or thought you did, the chocolate

wrapped variety

and thought of saints and dragons in the world

and fell asleep dreaming of your cutglass

sparkling kingdoms

where love is always true and rainbow pleated

signed off on in cloud covenants

and requires nothing but to be true to the

original Oringal,

music the music the way it was written down,

even more, the way it was felt is feeling still,itself

when all others leave the room

still to believe in chivalric codes

even when the roses are all withering

but the soul blooms only

where there is no snickering at the truly

golden

beauty for its own sake, beautiful

and for God

you cannot forsake and be the same

Ah, well. let time be.

you've had enough of me and my admonishments

and of birthday candles and honest revelry

the taste of strawberry ice cream is wasted on

you now.

the brindled cow sold for the magic jelly

beans.

you think you are ahead

oh my dear but you

left worlds behind instead

better far than those you barely function in.

I know things about the things you think you

know

and what it cost, is costing still

and so I weep into the violets a foolish

woman,

girl or crone; a rippling image holding on

gliding backwards slowly into the mirror's

mirror

mary angela douglas 13 october 2022;20 february 2023

CERTITUDE

Revelations, CH. 21, The Holy Bible

everything will be reborn

where the heart is never torn

and the earth and sky are one

the rising and the setting sun

where beauty beckons everyone

and home is home

and only one

where peace a starry ensign flies

above the sorrows unreprised

mary angela douglas 10 october 2022

IN THE DREAM COUNTRIES YOU TURNED TO GO

 

in the dream countries you turned to go

and everyone's heart filled up with snow

everyone's heart filled up with snow

like flower cupped trees in a wintry april

as in a story by Conrad Aiken

till silent snow became the stars

with everyone looking for where you are

in the jewel box tiny and stunning ballet

or why does it always seem this way

in the dream countries when you turn to go

and everyone's heart fills up with snow.

mary angela douglas 10 october 2022;21 february 2023

BLUE ASPENS

blue aspens I have never seen

except in paintings I have dreamed

like blue ink on a rain soaked page

a letter sealed but never sent

and a forest wind on a sapphire plain

where nothing lives but falling rain

and blue aspens in a sunset glint;

somewhere remote, remotest sound

and scattered stars are all around

and I am lost between two eternities;

like music between the piano keys

slipping through just a few

angels convening from a far radiance murmuring

at last, at last on the Lord's sweet secret calendar

have come to pass:

blue, blue aspens.

mary angela douglas 9 october 2022

BETWEEN THE TEAR SMUDGED BATTLE LINES

between the tear smudged battle lines

you read instead the star maps as they climb, the stars,

above all frays and anything else you had in mind

too far from your dreaming days

the sorrowful cost, defrayed.

let Time bear swiftly down

you will find another hour

is granted you and then another

sustaining your amazement

as you fall

unwounded into

a Spring breaking out

into little gold flowers and the Immutable.

mary angela douglas 7 octoner 2022;21 february 2023

HANDLE MUSIC CAREFULLY

handle music carefully

as if clouds were monuments

the home you grew up in

the baby's breath in the earliest bouquets

and guard oh guard its sanctuaries

the beautiful composers knew

you must be still

to hear the stars

in the blue gold cold

when the darkness lifts

and they fade, singing together

mary angela douglas 7 october 2022

THE HISTORY OF DREAMS IN FRAGMENTS

crushing the jewel box cities they floated away

the jewels still shone

they floated away in parachutes made of flowers

landing on the Other Side

because the Princess wanted to wear silk again

and she knew there would always be flowers

birdsong from ruined trees and Christmas choirs and

grass growing softly over the untended graves

rebuilding the jewel box cities we were praised

again we raced up the hills to soak in the stars

the stars that aren't there anymore

yet from the burned out distances

they are plain as day at night

I want to go to school to spell in light years

after the wars,

what can't be understood no matter how many

candles are on the cake don't you see

no matter how much people tell you to face reality

oh lovely, troubled human race

everything, finally, disappears

from this too

mysterious, fragile place.

mary angela douglas 7 october 2022;21 february 2023

OCTOBER'S RETICENCE AGAIN (REVISED)

(for Washington Irving)

caught out by the jagged wind's

October's reticence again

I heard the name of Ichabod Crane

and Sleepy Hollow's penned again

out on no mercenary mission.

all in flame the evening trees

more shivery than even these

by sunset's notice unreprieved

I followed down the desolate lanes

the apple fields of what remains

I heard the name of Ichabod Crane

an inner music tapped its cane

long lapsed the wheel of Catherine turned

and young was old and never the same

stared Rip Van Winkle and Ichabod Crane

troubled, in the grey mists of Rackham.

mary angela douglas 5 october 2022;21 february 2023

P.S. Racham refers to the otherworldly Englsh illustrator, Arthur Rackham.

MIDNIGHT COKE FLOAT TIME MACHINE FORAY

I imagine a worm hole opening up in quantumy space

and we go through to an old timey drug store 

once, we knew

and saddle up on the twirlable red or green leatherette stools

and order a coke float, each, which is, if you sadly don't

know, IS

two grandiose golden scoops of vanilla ice cream and coca cola

syrup almost like a Sunday benediction

out of a silver spigot poured all over it in a tall fluted

glass so that there is so

much foam at the top it's miraculous

and its fizzy a LOT and so cooling

and later we will twirl the rack, my sister and I

of the lovely display of the classics, illustrated comics

especially the junior classics which are of every fairy tale

we have memorized so far with that fresh comic book smell

that crisping glossiness

like a baby road map of the heart

a road map of the heart

and this is a memory wrapped in a net of gold

you must hold it carefully not to spill all the peppermints

and try it yourself some midnight when you can't sleep

when you

are concentrating really really hard on the caramel fizz

of the past 

so hard that all kaleidoscopes bloom at once

and we glide backwards with our runcible spoons

through Time and all its Junes

extra moonlight coating the dewy night grass 

for the Coke Float special, fifteen cents or a mercury dime

and nothing seems more idyllic nee sublime

in this or any other fan cooled, lifetime, Heaven, anyway,

than this parlour of the Saturday whenever you chose

it, cafe of the infinite long past the matinees let out

parfaits.

mary angela douglas 5 october 2022;21 february 2023

IN AUTUMN I DREAM OF GUTENBERG

I too like Gutenberg longed to hammer words into gold

into gold, saffron, the scarlet, violet of maples leaved and

leaving,

to polish the mirrors into flight reflectng the light of the

saints and souvenirs, chimerical albums

to leave even so faint traces of my own existence here

perhaps one pearllike tear admonishing not the one flower in 

a wilderness pressed not into a book

one modest stone or atomies

bearing like amber the slightest wavering of the fern

and to enamel lightly, sprightly on the earth the memory of

clouds

seeking to win, where yet, I only begin

and yet I dream it so

the moveable type of wings

the typography anointed

in all the colours of the sun to run the prism through

the handiwork of the mourning Dove on such a loom

to publish to the air only what I dare

and to let God pick up as a fond child

the somewhat phoenix ashes, and renew

the tattered heraldry

of what remained to do

the wild rose music left unscored

and yet it is enough for me and you

itinerant scribes no longer inscribing

I heard him almost whisper with a goldsmith's yearning

born out of his time

to set the type

illuminated come what may in after Mays

or to vanish with the missing page

posterity cannot find.

mary angela douglas 3 october 2022;21 february 2023

A LETTER TO YOU DEAR READER: THE MOST BEAUTIFUL POEM IN THE WORLD

 A LETTER TO YOU: THE MOST BEAUTIFUL POEM IN MY OPINION

Dear Reader, whoever you are and wherever you may be and however you may feel today about your life or anything past, present, or to come

I just felt to share with you this hour this day what I consider to be the most beautiful poem in the world. That is PSALM 23 from the Bible. It is really like a prayer and it has the power to soothe to comfort and strengthen you in each and every storm of life. Just read it or better yet, say it aloud and from your heart or pray it silently and you will see what I mean BECAUSE dear person, The Lord God truly IS your shelter and your shepherd NO MATTER WHAT. God be with you always. He is our home and our rock of ages, the Lord God of hosts and his Son Christ Jesus. You may feel all alone in the world but He IS with you and will always be with you in His lovingkindness. You can be sure of that.

God be with you.

Psalm 23

King James Version

23 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

THE JUMPING ROPE QUEENS IN FINGERPAINT GREEN

we drank the summer up like orange soda,

orangeade, I'm in the shade

with an ice cream spade

and its cherry vanilla all

up at the villa for my sister and I

and we're too little

to eat peanut brittle

or sip some coffee

so we settle for toffee

in little bits

and lots of fizz

you know how it is

in the coke that's floats

on the fourth of july

when we play I spy

and lots of things

and the zither that sings

about diamond rings

and mockingbirds

and have you heard

I'm the jumping rope queen

in all of my dreams

and the dust flies high

till it coats the sky

like the wizard of Oz

when the cyclone came

in our Mary Jane's

(patent leather shoes)

we'll travel there

to gather news

and have room to spare

for another summer 

that's fingerpaint green

as my mother would say

le creme de la cream.

mary angela douglass 28 september 2022;21 february 2023

TIME IN ITS GOLDEN CIRCUIT

the light comes down

between pastel hills

earnestly smudged

and in a pink glow

and you are happy then to show

on your manila paper a hint of snow

that comes and goes

or Spring laughing in sudden flowers

evening slips into a purple shading

the clouds that later

illumined will be

in silver ripples

so far from me

in lullabies going off to sea

Time in its endless

Time in its golden circuit

caroling home.

mary angela douglas 28 september 2022;21 february 2023

SING AS YOU DID, THE SECRET NAMES OF FERNS

once as a child did you speak into unknowing

the seashell of the darkness

coded with pink light in such small stars

and hear the star music, 

as if it were as familiar a thing

as teacups

just before waking up

what could you know about the history of light

but you felt it.

find in grown over shrubbery in dreams

the cottage of a distant scene, the playhouse remembered

and the blackberry vines

and strangely, feel at home there

and think nothing of it of Time

not even the fisher price playroom wall clock

with its see through to red, blue and green

plastic cogs

did you see through what seemed opaque

to anyone else as if glimpsing

flowers before their blooming

the beauty accomplished

birds just before their launches into song

the treble notes trembling in the dew on the leaves

the robins egg blue skies when it was thundering

surely Grandmother must have seen

prescient as she was, like Maeterlinck

the light streaming mysteriously 

as you did, mellow through the living room's

fleur di lis globe

or notice the cloud the one cloud

suddenly tipped with vermillion tipping over

or sing as you did

the secret names of ferns

when only the wind was listening

and perhaps one small chirping bird

on the pavement of dreams

everafter all sparrows would seem to you

golden

though you lost or never found the reasons why

towards Easter the light settling over the irises 

underneath the piano studio window

seemed gilded beyond the ordinary

affected by my sister's hours of beauteous practice

producing small tears in the corners of your eyes

in the pale green coldness

of early Spring afternoons when heard from outside

soon, too soon now the fairytale endings

o stop, Time, even for a minute!

but even then, weren't we always

drifting away with the moon

our house and everything everyone in it.

mary angela douglas 27 september 2022;21 february 2023 9

SO SHOULD THE DROWSING BRANDS BE PLUCKED

so should the drowsing brands be plucked

from the dreaming fires of what could be

abruptly into charred reality, or anonymously

than that they should be read complicitly

and misconstrued

the poets made of fire and dew

the more than eloquent 

now conscripted to serve

the politically absurd

better to tread no stage at all

and never to be named or known

than to survive millenia this way

so to assay the future

so to no avail

not to prevail for ages from their rightful souls

but ever to be trolled, marauded, bought and sold

defaced from view, repackaged in a petulant nomenclature

who raced their chariots toward a peerless sun

in words of gold of pearl now read,

now lectured on, as if they were done.

and never dreamed at all.

mary angela douglas 24 september 2022;22 february 2023

ON LOOKING INTO A HIGH SCHOOL CHEMISTRY BOOK

 

the colloidal world is the world of neglected dimensions

I read beneath a tree

half tracing the pale evocative words

that seem to be

displaced from poetry

and the shadowed leaves shining

on my school book

drifting in an afternoon

I clutch absently

the fade from green

of the withering grass

and feel instinctively

that the leaves are dying

and this will pass, is passing

it is their Age, the bright corona of the autumn days.

is it the shadow's leaf or the leaf's shadow

crumbling in my hands that shutters

the too snowy quiet of the page

there is some revelation here

that will not easily disclose itself

music glistens from an open window

(someone's Debussy, sifting through)

late practice of an afternoon

or is it early shimmering

the dream sounds surround me

the song, melting around me

in the orange of the leaves

and their light

unrill the light! if only I could

spoking the quiet exoticism

of the words I love, the otherworldly phrase

lifting from the text to the unseen stars above

blinds me to the page of untrammeled snow

or Love,

trackless, I don't really know

the neglected dimensions

or seek to know

I am suddenly very old

diminishing in the braille of light

I seem not to know

how long I have been here on the lawn

or why or where

the afternoon has gone

mary angela douglas 3 april 1970;, St. Louis, Missouri (Fontbonne College)

revised 23 september 2022 Crystal Towers, Winston Salem, North Carolina

ONE DAY EMERGING FROM THE ROSE THICKETED CASTLE

 

one day emerging from the rose, thicketed castle

the troubled sleep

may we emerge into the mild and wild orchid daylight

with a half shell moon still grazing the skies

all brambles gone

and find to infinite surprise 

there is no bad news forever

and all Kingdoms reprise

the glory of the first beginning

when God touched our eyes 

and this was Seeing, Being, Dreaming, Alive!

and we are free, washed in the jubilant bells

delivered from all spells by Jesu, Christ, redeemed

free as the green of grass

the blue of sky 

in a child's first colouring book

free to arrive at the sepia toned train station

ticketless, timelessly all in an  outpost's dream

into the mainspring of happiness of everything 

specific as the amber of our tea,

as the endless holiday clatter of our sprigged china

and the inexhaustible larder of jam filled pantries

and each will sing without needing to be 

famous for it

or fly with an iridescent wing

with no edgy expectation

into again the deep woods solace

with diamond clarity

seeking no prey; no need to outdistance anyone-per se

under no icarian, no feckless sun.

in a joy brimmed day asking nothing of anyone

the telegraph relayed:

all battles won.we are coming home.

mary angela douglas 22 september 2022;22 february 2023

WILLIAM BLAKE SAID, SO IT SEEMED

 

I caught Brightness in a net of dream

William Blake said so it seemed

really in fact, a cobbler's dream

to me nesting doll that I am within

so many predecessor poets, friends

born of so varicoloured, the divinest whim;

I keep looking out for them and

I will listen

while they glisten

and William Blake said

that is good

even this late, you really should

rewand again these disenchanted woods.

mary angela douglas 21 september 2022;22 february 2023

TREES STAND STILL

trees stand still and so do I

clouds rest softly on a painted sky

when not a breath of wind goes by

who can sail those ships of flame

high above the earth's domain

when so stilly they remain

still the rose so rosely breathes

I breathe too the rose breath in

forgetting that the world will end

the world will end

yet all things 

our God shall mend.

mary angela douglas 21 septemner 2022;22 february 2023