Sensation Boulevard

Fair is my love, cruel as he’s fair
His brow shades frown, although his eyes are sunny
His smiles are lightning, though his pride despair
And his disdains are gall, his favors honey
A modest man, decked with a blush of honor
Whose feet do tread green paths of life and love
The wonder of all eyes that look upon him
Live reconciled friends within his brow
Then who had heard the plaints I utter now?
For had he not been fair, and thus unkind
My Muse had slept, and none had known my mind
Come, worth Greek, Ulysses, come
Possess these shores with me
The winds and seas are troublesome
And here we may be free
Here may we sit and view their toil
That travail in the deep
And joy the day in mirth the while
And spend the night in sleep
My spotless love hovers with purest wings
About the temple of the proudest frame
My ambitious thoughts, confined in his face
Affect no honour but what he can give
My hopes do rest in limits of his grace
I weigh no comforts unless he relieve
For he, that can my heart imparadise
Holds in his fairest hand what dearest is
All my life’s sweet consists in his alone
So much I love the most unloving one
Fair nymph, if fame or honor were
To be attained with ease
Then would I come and rest me there
And leave such toils as these
But here it dwells, and here must I
With danger seek it forth
To spend the time luxuriously
Becomes not men or worth
Let others sing of Knights and Paladines
In aged accents and untimely words
Paint shadows in imaginary lines
Which well the reach of their high wit records
But I must sing of thee, and those fair eyes
Ulysses, Oh be not deceived
With that unreal name
This honor is a thing conceived
And rests on others' fame
Begotten only to molest
Our peace, and to beguile
The best thing of our life, our rest
And give us up to toil
Authentic shall my verse in time to come
When yet th’ unborn shall say, Lo, where he lies
Whose beauty made him speak, that else was dumb
Well, well, Ulysses, then I see
I shall not have thee here
And therefore I will come to thee
And take my fortunes there
I must be won that cannot win
Yet lost were I not won
For beauty hath created been
T' undo, or be undone
These are the arcs, the trophies I erect
That fortify thy name
And these thy sacred virtues must protect
Against the dark, and time’s consuming rage
Though th’ error of my youth in them appear
Suffice, they show I lived, and loved thee dear

King of the Rumbling Spires

Kissing his hair I sat against his feet
Wove and unwove it, wound and found it sweet
Made fast therewith his hands, drew down his eyes
Deep as deep and dreamy like dim skies
Sleep were no sweeter than his face to me
Sleep of cold sea-bloom under the cold sea
What pain could get between my face and his?
Kissing his hair
How we should slumber, how we should sleep
Far in the dark with the dreams and the dews
And dreaming, grow to each other, and weep
Laugh low, live softly, murmur and muse
Yea, and it may be, struck through by the dream
Feel the dust quicken and quiver, and seem
Alive as of old to the lips, and leap
Spirit to spirit as lovers use
My spirit or thine is it, breath of thy life or of mine
Which fills my sense with a rapture that casts out fear
Pan’s dim frown wanes, and his wild eyes brighten as thine
Transformed as night or as day by the kindling year
Earth-born, or mine eye were withered that sees, mine ear
That hears were stricken to death by the sense divine
Earth-born I know thee: but heaven is about me here
The terror that whispers in darkness and flames in light
The doubt that speaks in the silence of earth and sea
The sense, more fearful at noon than in midmost night
Of wrath scarce hushed and of imminent till to be
Where are they? Heaven is as earth, and as heaven to me
Earth: for the shadows that sundered them here take flight
And naught is all, as am I, but a dream of thee
Why is it now
That I come to you like a humble servant
Willing to feed you brilliant words and love
From my own sacred mouth and hands
Willing to say, “I am sorry, I am sorry for all your pain?”
Who wrote all the music you have been playing
Who wrote all your notes of sadness
But also etched and gave you
Every ecstatic wince of joy your face, body and heart has ever known
Okay my dear
You have stumbled enough in the earth’s sweet dance
You have paid all your dues
Many times
Now let’s get down to the real reason
Why we sit together and breathe
And begin the laughing, the divine laughing
Like great heroic women
And magnificent strong men