Warren Falcon Quotes
''On behalf of all sentient beings I will pleadfrom 'Even Pretty Buddhas'
I'll write until the quill is taken from my cold hand.
Even then I shall be dirty with righteous indigence,
only the gods to blame - they love a good
argument anyway. Why should I disappoint?
Be damned and done with mirrors and pockets,
a man can curse at the end having earned the
right to do so -
a wink and a
then come the flies.
Whose hands shall
shoo them, whose
hands un-shoe him
and run quickly
I leave my poems just as they are.
When I'm gone let the worms correct
spelling and punctuation.
Meanwhile beneath willow tips
I will tease slowly the grasses to laughter
which is the only horizon I have known.''
''Is that fleshfrom 'In Excelsis Deo - Variations Of A Surrealist Carol For Madrigal Choir To Be Sung While Bathing'
floating on the
surface me who
swims or sinks
I know a strange me
with soap for eyes
and suds to see
''Among oaks the fallen do not speak.from 'Singer In Green - The LoRuhamah Poem, Her Death Discordant
The dirt upon which they lay is hard.
Need us here
spoken for nothing.
We scratch our mouths
across the scar of land,
wait in the black sun,
pray to break apart.
A bird with injured wing
sits among the yellow leaves.
It's wild hurt flays the sky.''
''What is concealed beneath matters most,from 'Searching Near Mule Kick Creek For William Faulkner's Grave In Mississippi'
then the ongoing translation for what
continues to measure paces, what may
even be spoils of the living, either way
either or each indicates there is life after all.
Gather, shall we, by
a pacing river, beauteous,
shining in its endurance,
singing of endurance
which may arrive strangely
'A mule will labor ten years
willingly and patiently for you,
for the privilege of kicking you
once.' - William Faulkner''
''Here horseflies feast.from 'Our Mutual Confession Invisibly Drawn - Pentecostal Church Ruins'
Upon weathered stones only creases
where once were names, dates, even
God's Word, chiseled by a now unknown
hand, an impression only, one among
many, reduced to no plot but that of
Providence left to surmise swatting at
Eucharistic flies proving only flesh and
only blood, a flood of questions eventually
exhaled, and exhaling still, waiting beside
a white rock with wings, ignoring fires,
leaning into changes.''
''Hidden behind a starfrom 'What The Orphan Knows About Light'
the ash sings without self-pity,
Stake your claim in Beauty.
Jab the mausoleum
majesty of State
in the eye.
Here is your key, little one.
Now run quickly home.'''
'''Z' is for Zukofsky reading him beforeWarren Falcon, from 'It's Not Night When I See Your Face - Traces Metaphysical'
news of these deaths that of the only
ordinary me next off the descending
escalator in the Cultural Abyss-Mall
who've abandoned ascent I now confess
that dream rather have gathered still
plucking assent only from the air and
what now long consumes a hard staring
at light all shades
one hand extended
other clinched in prayer
his Z's sure
(ex) postulation -
'It's not night when I do see your face'****''
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Even from my front porch
the rusted sewing machine
yearns for golden thread.
"Visible truth is the apprehension of the absolute condition of present things." - Herman Melville
for Robert Creeley
blossoms perform for eyes