realization (for Lan)

whenever I’m with you
you of the many names
it’s like waking in the fields
and seeing the earth for the first time
the heavens – your clear brow
and the light – your eyes
joy of every being
the wind – gusts of hair
the essence and luster of silk
fluttering of thousands of buoyant wings
yes wind   gusts of hair
the sun is your mischievous heart
that you let shine upon me alone
your poor poet aroused
by your uncommon beauty
of body   of spirit
you give me warmth in every sense
on your account I possess
even more of life    beloved
I give thanks to heaven
that you’ve awakened me
in this dream filled with song

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll 2014

fugue

I bleed for your beauty
every drop is a verse
a red tulip born
from a love without pretense
in every dawn blood is sown
and reaped in every sunset
oh your lips of deep crimson
like fire   like roses
what joy you give me   love
what grief I give myself
I perish for loving you
in my poems I bleed out

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2014

wakefulness (for R. W.)

you make my spirit burn
like the waves scorching
the bay gone mad with storm
you burn away my rimed delusions
you undo my hidden knots
stripping away all pretense
you make sing my silences
while damping down my every conceit
you scare away my worries
while startling within me
I know not what    how it skips
this I-know-not-what
how it frolics   how it eggs me on
oh foreboding full of sun
oh night fraught with thorns
they are not eyes these stars
but unblinking dreams aflutter

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll 2014

after dawn: decending the hill to the lower pond, Snug Harbor

no one else about -
so hushed that from here I catch
the brook’s bright plashing

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© Gregory V Driscoll  2014

weather report

heat, rain.   chill wind.  fog -
cool hand on earth’s searing brow.
summer’s fever’s done.

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2014

taking cover

this tree shelters me
against the truth of the sun
much as these verses of mine
shield me from your beauty

yes – I’m crazy but not enough
and so  no true poet am I
but merely a versifier

yet I must ask this:
is it a sin to deny art
even for the sake of truth?
not even the wind answers me

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2014

Ruffles and Flourishes…Hail to the Hawk!

Putin, “warmonger”,
just made peace while Obama,
the “Peace Laureate”,
resorts first to threats of force
or force itself. What a fraud!

*    *   *

~ Gregory V Driscoll  2014