Biography of David McLansky
I am a Poet/Philosopher
David McLansky's Works:
Searching for Love in the Sugar Bowl Luncheonette
Still Searching for Love in the Sugar Bowl Luncheonette
The White Ship
Big of Us
Song of the Momsa Bird
The Lives of the Patients
Patterns of Chaos
David McLansky Poems
After My Death
No stillness filled the air, The Nation didn't pause Speechless with despair; No limousine procession
in Praise Of Older Women
Give me not Your nubile girls Experts on the course of life, Whose baby cheeks
They told us all 'to just stay put, ' Breathing ashes and blackened soot, 'Put a towel against the door, ' 'Wet it first, put it on the floor; '
Answer To Valsa George's Quest For An An...
As I stole into your garden The conifers thick upon the margin; Sharp with needles that pinched my skin That didn't want to let me in;
Vhia = Welcome to the Family You radiate such sparkling joy Your happiness contagious
How gentle the first flower of Spring, So innocent and stout It bursts with strength the icy ring And waves it's head about;
Oh Where Is My Love
Bell of the morn Streaks of red clouds Signal the dawn; The sun shall arise
When A Poem Is Done
When a poem is done My soul is purged, The torment released, In nouns and verbs.
They lowered the babe into my lap; Careful with her ties and snaps, Her naked legs, startled, churning; My eyes welled up, my throat was burnng.
I gave to her a marigold Plucked from the sea cliff bank; Her eyes grew wild and chilly cold At I so bold and frank;
Silvered Time A spinning ball; Twin beacons light my spiriling fall; A static lens within the caul;
Said Thoreau's Nagging Screaming Wife
Said Thoreau's nagging, Screaming wife, 'What makes you think Your boring life
How can I dull this mother’s Ache Fist pressed against her heart Clenched as if her Heart would break; Frail wisdom to impart
That life was just a prison camp, The circled shacks, the mud and damp; The squinting eyes of prison guards The lowered eyes kept down for yards;
Give to me
Your web of sorrow
And I will weave it
On the morrow
Into a cloth of shimmering gold
Interlaced with spells of old,
Chants against the days of sadness,
Armor for the days of madness;
Protecting hearts not meant to be
Stunned by life's harsh threnody.