Thus now we discover Candlemas,
Unexpectedly awoken in the frost white city,
A barren metropolis restored to humanity
As we walk hand in hand through the concrete streets.
You hold onto me tightly as we enter the church.
Thus now we are consecrate to Candlemas,
In a sudden cold movement of uncertain intensity
Electrifying the depths of this February evening
With the frigid fire of ancestral memory
Arcing from taper to taper, from Officiator to Acolyte
But barely illuminating our hands, our faces
As we bend forward in a moment of prayer.
Yes now we are consecrate to Candlemas.
(Cometh ye sermon./ Lingo Moderne./ neo Tabloid Speak.)
Ignoring the priest you kiss my cold fingers
And smile at me archly.-
Oh How I Do Love Thee!
Winter is diminishing. The Spring is now certain,
Soon the white snowdrops shall cover the Heath.
Oh God, How I Do Love Thee! .
But I must whisper oh so quietly
As the choir intones plainchant into the night.
I have loved thee since childhood
Since our first frenzied school days
When we laughed and we danced and we kicked and we screamed
And we battled and sprinted across the High Heath,
Chasing our shadows like a pair of mad puppies,
A disorder of fox cubs,
A convulsion of geese.
Young poets of mayhem mocking a dull world,
them teachers in grey coats, them boring old priests,
Old ladies in snow boots,
Widowers in weeds.
Oh then we shouted and sang at the dumb winter world scape
Our disconsolate, irreverent, fierce dialects of passion,
Raw songs of new shaping rough hewn, so much to our liking,
From that wild pagan language, our dear piratical English,
The tongue of sea traders, kings, bandits, dissenters,
Ancient and Modern, sap heavy with new strength
Distilled from a fusion of epochs in the sacrament of making;
Dragged into feral life like a child torn out of the darkness
By the conjuring of Shakespeare, of Middleton and Rowley.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
February 1st. 2011. - 21st. August 2012.
No comments:
Post a Comment