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Selected Poems of Steven Curtis Lance

Displaying Poems 2776 thru 2800 of 2819 Poems

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Dec 25, 2004, 6:28 pm


Transcendental Sonnet #1188:
L'Histoire du Soldat

My shining one within the darkness of this war
I choke surrounded by an enemy of smoke
And shadow rendered blind and dazed I cannot see
Nor know which way to fight never this lost before
You are my spark within the darkness inside me
Though death surrounds me circling like a beast of prey
The hope of your pure love keeps me alive today

We in our thousands sent into the noise of hell
Where up is down uncertainty is certainty
Are walking dead unless we have loved wise and well
We wounded cherish hope of walking home again
And I into your arms of love this nightmare past
These sands may keep my blood and tears I leave the pain
Here in this twisted wreckage to come home at last



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 25, 2004, 1:19 am


Transcendental Sonnet #1187:
Christmas Eve Alone

Christmas Eve: two telephone calls today

One from my Silke in intensive care
And one from my attorney he was there
In his office worrying about me

Now what does this mean and what does this say
If anything means anything? I see
How it is for me in my crazy life

That only my attorney and my wife
Are there and care for me and here I fear
I am a prisoner of my own mind

Or else perhaps I am an escapee
Now having left my former life behind
The choice between to be or not to be

Alone: I still believe ...on Christmas Eve



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 24, 2004, 4:58 pm


Transcendental Sonnet #1186:
Perfect Circle

for Silke

A perfect circle absolute and pure
As sign of what you are to me you give
Complete and everlasting whole and sure
No end and no beginning just to be
And what you are is everything to me

No less than all and so this gift you bring
From far away is fitting hand and heart
Joined yours to mine a perfect circle now
Turns as above we give we love we live
One to the one as one which does not part

Refined by fire as gold to form this ring
Within this perfect circle dreams somehow
Will come true now for two who turn as one
As turns this world which rings the golden sun



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 23, 2004, 4:59 pm


Transcendental Sonnet #1185:
All

"Post tenebras lux"

Feeling a failure forgotten and gone
I Googled myself on the Internet
Imagine my surprise as my dead eyes
Found I am doing my best ever yet
Then I remembered my grandmother said
Artists are not understood until dead
The darkness is deepest before the dawn

If dead then I must not have gone to hell
Someone is reading my books every word
As a composer my music is heard
All in all things seem to be going well
For what I have made the price which I paid
Was nothing less than everything if small
I gave the best I had I gave it all



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 23, 2004, 3:23 am


Transcendental Sonnet #1184:
Sundown

Sundown at four forty-seven today
Yesterday it came at four forty-six
A minute a day the light drinks away
The waters at the riverbank of Styx

My hope rides on the return of the light
Like the bet of a gambler on a horse
But this bet is sure I know that the night
Will yield to the light I know that the course
Of natural events like this is plain

I guess I just want it to take my pain
Away as day advances night recedes
I guess I am just an old gambler who
Is fool enough to bet again who needs
To hope a little as I wait for you



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC









Dec 22, 2004, 2:58 am


Transcendental Sonnet #1183:
Post Tenebras Lux / a song for the solstice

My love tonight the light returns
Now at the bottom of the year
The sun one moment longer burns
Tomorrow as it lingers here

Night turns to orderly retreat
A day a moment as discreet
Withdrawing with its dignity
Intact and with black velvet grace
On cat's paws it allows the light
Advancing turn to dance tonight

Light steps into ascendency
The blackest morn of Capricorn
In deepest darkness now is born
From winter's seed the spring to be



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 21, 2004, 6:34 pm


Transcendental Sonnet #1182:
God Jul / a carol for Silke sick at Christmas

Returning guest into my heart
Starchild from far away
Ever together and apart
I welcome you today

Sweet kiss of other in the dark
Eternal foreigner
Descending dove ascending lark
The unknown wanderer
Both of us are outsiders now
I guess we always were

Incarnate alien brother-god
Break through the night to shine
On one on whom the beasts have trod
Save her and make her mine



+Steven Curtis Lance

GOD JUL

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 21, 2004, 4:05 am


Transcendental Sonnet #1181:
Still

Since I never thought I was it could be worse
I am not the center of the universe
I believe in a still point which I name God
All else turning absolute and relative

Relative is relative is give and take
Absolute is absolute not take nor give

Alone unknown seed sown mind blown and grown odd
I bend this way and that but I do not break
I will always be here no matter how queer

Nobody knows me nobody shows me how
Their way is better than my black velvet night
Everybody is so cocksure they are right
They believe that I am blind that they can see

I will be at the still point if you want me



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 21, 2004, 1:43 am


Transcendental Sonnet #1180:
Punctured Black Velvet

A spark in the sky kindled the night
Punctured black velvet as though with a pin
It pinpricked the dark with a still point of light

Something unearthly? Something divine?
How I wish that it would happen again
If only I could look up and see it shine

My dark eyes feel blind they cannot see
They do not believe they have no insight
If I had hope my eyes could open and be

Able to see in the dark they say
Without hope I only stumble and fall
And this night is so long I forget what day

Even looks like anymore or what I am looking for
Just some punctured black velvet cold and lonely blind and small



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 20, 2004, 5:10 am


Transcendental Sonnet #1179:
Home

for Silke

So close to Christmas and so far from home
But where is my home if it is not there
Within that loving heart which beats for me?

Home is a poem a state of grace where
We look into each other's eyes and see
Much more than location or sense of place

Home is who we are and whom we love best
Home has a human form and loving face

Silke I find my home within your breast
Wherever you are for me there will be
That elusive haven of my longing

Where I find that feeling of belonging
Which tells me I am home at last home free
As you are home right here inside of me



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 20, 2004, 2:12 am


Article published on AuthorsDen about misadventures elsewhere which led to the composition of my sonnets #1177 and #1178...


Poets as Moderators: Just Saying "No" in the New Year
By +Steven Curtis Lance
Sunday, December 19, 2004


"Beware the honorific which becomes horrific soon enough."


I am so happy to be among friends and fellow poets here at AuthorsDen. How good it is to be understood, and sweeter still to be appreciated.

A dear friend and fellow poet tried to rescue me from a horrible moderating muddle which was bound up with a Poet in Residence position, and he attempted this by trying to do better, and to create a safer place.

But he had to sleep sometime, although I was far too nervous to, my "finger on the trigger" all night long, and this morning the poor guy just took his family to church; that was all it took for all hell to break loose upon his forum. I felt like the Sorcerer's Apprentice, the Mickey Mouse version in the original 1940 Fantasia, with the Paul Dukas score pumping away to hellish effect as mishaps multiply.

My well-meaning friend left me with the YaBB Ruler keys, but my fourteen year-old would have done a lot better with them, because it was functionally a video game; the speed required with the delete buttons was dizzying, stupefying. It was also just plain weird, and gave rise to the chilling question, "who ARE these people, anyway, and don't they have anything better to do than this?" I'm a poet, not a gamer; I would so much rather have been taking a walk.

The "this" which they were doing was this: whether in legions or in multiplicity, they created phalanxes of fraudulent memberships, all of which were permutations of a truncated form of my name which I despise, "Steve Lance," and ascribing a bewildering array of sexual deviancy and pretty much whatever perversion of nature or nurture they could come up with--but all of it sexual, in keeping with the culture (sex sells!)--ascribing all of this to little old ME: a poet turning fifty on New Year's Eve, who is in love with one woman wholeheartedly and faithfully, who has never done anything strange with either animals, feces, dead people or children (I raised three of them with relative success, actually--not dead people--children); these were their predominating themes this morning.

Mind you, these were only the NAMES of the "new members." The posts themselves were mostly just filler, to reinforce the sting of those punchy and pugnacious names.

I really hate to be called "Steve," much prefering Stevie or Steven, but to read and delete about a hundred times "Steve Lance is a Worthless Piece of sh*t!!! (always with three exclamation points)" became especially wearing.

So the new poetry forum was even worse than the old, because the forum "demons" had followed and had a freer hand in a smaller and less-experienced place, especially with the admin gone, if briefly. I'm sure the other admin is laughing up his sleeve about this, if he knows, and I can't honestly blame him.

Are you wondering why they hate me so? That's what I am wondering myself; it can't be my poetry, as they never bother to read it. I address them rather eloquently in sonnetry, daresay, but my efforts fall on deaf ears, go unread. I think the perception might be that I am some sort of authority figure in the poetry biz, or that I am maybe even good at it: too good at it for my own good (see my Transcendental Sonnet #1178).

Of course the pain of all this is inevitably compounded by a "bad" admin, and bad admins seem to fall broadly into two essential categories: those who Don't Know (ineffective), and those who Don't Care (indifferent). I have suffered under both of these, and a third who combined the two within himself as a sort of an administrative hermaphrodite.

I have thought long and hard about this matter of moderating since this morning's catastrophe, and I have come to the inescapable conclusion that both Silke and I are too fragile fauna for the fickle flora of fora.

If you think of it, is it not a conundrum and a paradox for a good poet to be a good moderator? The very qualities essential to the one are as antithesis unto the other, creating an unhealthy inner conflict and imbalance. Silke and I could certainly feel it; it felt like fear, because it was.

Therefore, along with my New Year's Eve birthday resolution to leave bitterness behind, I also resolve to leave moderating behind, and to avoid it as if it were Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy, the symptoms of which seem to find echo and mime in the mind of the mind-blown moderator, to say nothing of the immoderate membership as well (as though in hell).

No more bitterness, and no more moderating in MMV for me.

Friends and fellow poets: beware the honorific which becomes horrific soon enough, and thank God for this place and for Matt Miller who both knows AND cares, as also do all of you. I care too, and it is so good to get to know and care for you.

I did get a couple of sonnets out of all this, though, and I will share them with you here:

Transcendental Sonnet #1178: Never Get Good at Poetry!

A Cautionary Tale for Aspiring Poets

You go to church and leave me in the lurch
At ten o'clock in Texas time to go
You mean to honor me but do you know
What a pain in the ass your website is?

I dare not sleep must watch and wait in fear
For lazy kids to wake up and destroy
What is left of my good name posted here
While you sing tidings of comfort and joy

My finger on the trigger I await
The daily flogging which is now the fate
Of those who get so good at poetry
That they get kicked upstairs to clean latrines

Surrounded by these jolly Christmas scenes
Success is meant for fools like me ...like this

- - -

Transcendental Sonnet #1177: Scrubbing Off the Swastikas

Scrubbing off the swastikas hosing down the hate
I got talked into doing it again
No chance for creativity this is my fate
To be a watchman in a night of pain
Persuaded to stand guard at a poetry site

With my hand on my weapon through the long cold night

I have noticed that they never even read us
They just come to spray and then run away
Do you think they realize how much they need us?
The world is growing darker by the day
This world they share with us our only place

I have misplaced the moon I find no sun
The battle is upon me may God grant me grace
A pen for a sword and a pencil for a gun

- - -

Thank you all so much for accepting me among you, my dear friends and fellow poets.

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year to all, and to all a good night. "What a day, what a day for an Auto da Fe..."

Love,

+Stevie

POST TENEBRAS LUX







Dec 19, 2004, 3:26 pm


Transcendental Sonnet #1178:
Never Get Good at Poetry!

A Cautionary Tale for Aspiring Poets

You go to church and leave me in the lurch
At ten o'clock in Texas time to go
You mean to honor me but do you know
What a pain in the ass your website is?

I dare not sleep must watch and wait in fear
For lazy kids to wake up and destroy
What is left of my good name posted here
While you sing tidings of comfort and joy

My finger on the trigger I await
The daily flogging which is now the fate
Of those who get so good at poetry
That they get kicked upstairs to clean latrines

Surrounded by these jolly Christmas scenes
Success is meant for fools like me ...like this



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 19, 2004, 12:53 pm


Transcendental Sonnet #1177:
Scrubbing Off the Swastikas

Scrubbing off the swastikas hosing down the hate
I got talked into doing it again
No chance for creativity this is my fate
To be a watchman in a night of pain
Persuaded to stand guard at a poetry site

With my hand on my weapon through the long cold night

I have noticed that they never even read us
They just come to spray and then run away
Do you think they realize how much they need us?
The world is growing darker by the day
This world they share with us our only place

I have misplaced the moon I find no sun
The battle is upon me may God grant me grace
A pen for a sword and a pencil for a gun



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 19, 2004, 4:07 am



My Mermaid Friend

(An Allegory, for Silke)

My mermaid friend can breathe the air
But not for very long
Blue eyes begin to dart despair
And small becomes her song

I visit her down by the shore
She meets me there halfway
But then she goes to sea once more
To come another day

My mermaid friend is beautiful
And wondrous to behold
Solicitous and dutiful
With hair of purest gold

We share about the sea and land
She sings her mermaid lays
So strange and yet I understand
And magic are her ways

My mermaid friend is strong to swim
In tail beneath the sea
Her human part is frail and slim
Marked by fragility

Of all her charms I love the best
This delicacy fair
And count the ribs in her small chest
As she takes in the air

My mermaid friend tends to remain
From her sea bed away
Too long and our world gives her pain
Such that she cannot stay

She turns quite blue out in the sun
And I feel sorry then
To see an end come to our fun
So lovely it has been

My mermaid friend has suffered much
From octopus and shark
She has been hurt and frightened such
That now she fears the dark

But if I went beneath the sea
And came up oft for air
I think that I could happily
Make her feel safe down there

My mermaid friend is strong though she
Is pale and thin and small
I think my mermaid friend could be
The strongest of us all

May mermaids marry I know not
But if they could I would
Take up with this one who knows what
Is true and right and good

My mermaid friend makes life worthwhile
She means the world to me
If I can make a mermaid smile
That is enough for me



+Steven Curtis Lance

from Transcendental Sonnets and Other Observations ...for Silke, Copyright MMIV








Dec 17, 2004, 9:06 pm


New Year's Eve Birthday Resolution at Fifty

To those who have suffered bitterness can
Prove to be the stone by which we stumble
Undoing all we work for taking all
We have loved and built however humble
The rock by which we ultimately fall
It has destroyed many a stronger man
Than me to see it suck the life away
From those whom I have loved the light of day
Gone out from their eyes the sun from their skies
Bitterness their undoing in the end
Has spoken to me that this must not be
The ruin of the rising of our dreams

There must be hope in sorrow though it seems
These wings are broken now yet we must rise

Suicide has taken many a friend
This horror would not have happened unless
We had been overpowered in the dark
Alone at the crossroads of bitterness
Where shadows of grief are so sharp so stark
Burning alone in the crucible of
Suffering with no light no hope no love
Turning to stone there with no one to care
Where it is always night and never day
Alone on the telephone it has been there
Waiting in the silence to bear us away
At the existential moment of despair

Therefore now as I mark a half a century
I resolve I must leave bitterness behind
I dare not let it hollow out my trust
I care not for corrosion nor for rust
By which bitterness would eat away my mind
To rot out from the inside is no destiny



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 17, 2004, 5:08 am


Wind-Polished Stars and Deep Blue-Velvet Pleasures

for my Silke at Christmas MMIV

I got out of the house today at last
To buy cat food holy candles mung bean sprouts
In time of feast to gently break my fast
And ate them all with lettuce and carrots too
Instead of erstwhile anuses and snouts

(I feel much healthier now and so might you
Gentle reader to be a gentle feeder)

My fourteen year-old Teddy came to see me
Escaped his mother briefly on a dare
Waiting here when I got home a nice surprise
We weigh the same he practically could be me
Albeit younger and with curly hair

She came at once and snatched him up and away
But not before I saw the love in my son's eyes
And I slipped him a quick ten-spot as I heard him say
It was good to see me and he would be back someday

Somehow these holy candles kindle Christmas light
Watering by surprise these world-weary eyes
Melting my frozen heart this cold and windy night
Is it because their wax happens to be red?
Or is something waking which I thought was dead?

Today at the store I bought bright light-bulbs too
Intending to write something brighter for you
If not brighter at least with better lighting
To keep you shining in the sky my love my friend

The sun went down in flames tonight as the moon rose
Impatiently inspiring me to write for you
And all is quiet now for serious writing
Save for the sighing of the Santa Ana wind

Insistently desiring I write right for you
The wind is speaking something to me as it blows
And if I listen it will tell me what it knows
How this poem goes as it opens its treasures
Of wind-polished stars and deep blue-velvet pleasures

I miss so much in life because I fail to see
The beautiful miracle which is you and me
That the sweetest girl in the world chose me somehow
Of what we share and that you care for me and be
At peace within this magic moment of the now

What the wind blows and what the night rings
What the night sings and what the wind knows
What the starlight would tell me to write
Would seem to me to be that destiny
Has given us a miracle tonight

Tonight and always every breath and heartbeat of
This moment of eternity we know as love



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 16, 2004, 11:23 am


Transcendental Sonnet #1176:
Little Girl-Star~*

for my Silke

Half my age and twice as wise
In you I see everything
Shining through your starlight eyes
Like the diamond in the ring
You gave me

Little diamond in the sky
You save me
Little girl-star I live by
Apart from you is... nothing

Can you feel my love tonight
Rising in your morning now
As I taste your diamond light?

Little girl-star shine somehow
Though the big stars fall and die!



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 16, 2004, 3:08 am


Transcendental Sonnet #1175:
December Darkness

So much to remember
Too much to forget
So deep in December
Too deep in regret
To join in the festivities

Day is overpowered now as night
Advances I no longer see the dawn
So much darkness and too little light

I seek the sun and find it to be gone
Away and day is night no light for me
Eyes frozen shut by tears no longer see

Suicides born in moments like these
Are undramatic serious and sure
The mind as broken as the heart is pure



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 15, 2004, 6:00 pm


Transcendental Sonnet #1174:
A Tender Kiss a Whisper ...and a Sigh

The winding road of life is hard and long
And when a bad turn comes and takes you wrong
You lose your job you go broke you get sick
You find out who your friends are pretty quick

Reversals of fortune of health of wealth
Cause friends to turn away to steal by stealth
Away as if they never had been there
It happens all the time and everywhere
The good-time Charlies come and then they go
Who share your weal but will not bear your woe

Now Silke it is down to you and me
The two of us one star of destiny
The moon which watches with a winking eye
A tender kiss a whisper ...and a sigh



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 15, 2004, 4:45 am


Mobile Monologues

When I walk by myself I am alone
Observing everything engaged in thought
Wrapped in the rhythm of steps and quiet
A concept my society forgot
While everybody else got on the phone

The mobile monologues have run amok
As everyone else walking now has got
Running conversations running riot
I often find myself lost now and stuck
Within a crowd speaking but not to me
Nor to each other but are speaking to
Someone unknown to me perhaps to you

Am I the exception which proves the rule
The very last person apparently
Without this chattering ubiquity
This twenty-first century talking tool
A mute misfit not yet turned squawking fool?

I have a telephone which has a cord
A long one just not long enough to roam
But then no roaming charges need apply
Because when I go out I leave it home
I am neither that busy nor that bored
That I must be declaiming all the time
Exclaiming all in rhyme silently I

A self-contained quietist walk out of pace
Where monologues animate each lonely face



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 14, 2004, 3:46 pm


Transcendental Sonnet #1173:
Camelia Sinensis

Sick indifferent or well
Heaven purgatory hell
Whatever I have suffered in this life
The sting of it is buffered in the strife
By Camelia Sinensis

Whatever would I do without it?
By now I should have lost my senses
Make it tea for me and no mistake
Elixir of my life no doubt about it

Through fire and flood through wind and earthquake
Whatever comes to me every catastrophe
I have made it through and so will you
Just take this wee advice for free to you from me:
Lay off the booze (you snooze you lose) and make some tea



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 14, 2004, 4:43 am


Jingle Bell Go to Hell

a silly song for Silke

When the winter sun shines
And the shopping mall lines
Are long

Lengthening as days dwindle down

I would alleviate
Holiday depression
With a brief digression
As days abbreviate

Then is when I fire up my car

To seek peace on earth
(Elusive since birth)
To follow the star
(Wherever you are)

Then is when I get out of town

When jingle bells jingle
To hell with Kris Kringle
When the bells ring I sing
This song:

Bah humbug damn it get the hell away
From me you stupid fat man take your sleigh
Where the sun never shines
Jingle bell go to hell

Ding dong

Should the shopping mall lines
Go wrong
Should the whole thing go horribly awry
I will cackle madly as I cruise by

It just gives me a headache
Please pardon me for my unfriendly rhymes
But I have made the mistake
Of being suckered in too many times

Now I am getting out of here
Absum to zoom-zoom
But I will see you all next year



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 13, 2004, 4:32 pm


The Keepers of the God-Box

for Silke

When I was a boy
The preachers all preached
That the world would be ending soon

Sort of spoiled the joy
When that goal was reached
Of men driving cars on the moon

I grew up with no future
In denial of the past
As if each day were my last

My Bible had a zipper
But it was like a suture
To bind to doom and glory
One little last-day-tripper

It was a scary story

But what was that zipper meant to hold in?
He who does not end nor does he begin?
Perhaps it was meant to keep some things out
Perhaps it was sin? Perhaps it was doubt?

Maybe

Baby-girl is it like this for you too
That you can never do nor be enough
Ever no matter what great things you do?

Growing up Baptist can be rough

Scared the hell out of me and I think you
Know what I mean
What might have been
Would never be

Except that God is so much bigger than all that

They try to keep him in a box but like a cat
He just keeps on climbing out
Every time they stuff him in

Of this I have no doubt
And
In this there is no sin
For
He who does not end nor does he begin
Is free
To be

Sharing his image and likeness with the likes of us
While The Keepers of the God-Box make ungodly fuss



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 13, 2004, 2:48 am


Transcendental Sonnet #1172:
I Was Here

I mean to say just what I mean
Not to be silenced nor ashamed
Seeing I might as well be seen

Being myself and being named
Better to mean just what I say
Than to regret what might have been

Being credited being blamed
Is better than fading away
The memory that I was here
These words I write for you today

I do not mean to disappear
I would not be forgotten by
This world and when my time to die
Comes you will know that I was here



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC








Dec 12, 2004, 9:31 pm


Transcendental Sonnet #1171:
Or Maybe She Chose

I almost won the lottery to go to Vietnam
The only lottery one lost to win
The one my friends and I all prayed to lose

My father was the one who knew the bayonet the bomb
And also poetry
But he never knew me

He would have liked my life to end before it could begin
My mother did not have the right to choose
Or maybe she chose

Now only God knows

So they stopped the clock at zero
And I never got to go
Not a military hero

But then we will never know



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC











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Displaying Poems 2776 thru 2800 of 2819 Poems

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