Ian Stewart Black

Modern master of classical poetry

Month: March, 2010

Old

Among the birds of Leicester square
Aground below the icy air
Upon a silent bench, alone
My thoughts diverge and take me home

Among the trees in vacant woods
In days I still believed I could
Lift up my hand into the air
And from the ether, pigment tear

When stars at night were bright as day
And never seemed so far away
But always shone at my command
Within the reach of my right hand

Among the birds of Leicester square
And smothered by the icy air
The stars, no longer mine to hold
It seems that time has left me old




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The Ending Of A Poet

Nothing left to offer

And nothing deep within

No insight, truth or beauty

No novel, verse or tale.

No imagination

And no more latent grief

The ending of a poet?

The dying of a dream.

 

My muse remains, as ever

And yet my mind is still

No sunrise left to paint in words

Or sorrow left to speak.

No tales of tragic heartache

Of love both lost and won

No nature riddled images

Or talk of kindred souls.

 

There is nothing in me

No drop of amber light

No centred source of grace

Nor means with which to write.

No remnants of the old days

Nor sparkle of my verve

No streak, unused, of elegance

No inspired thought preserved.

 

Yet I know the reason

And how to rise from ash

To drag me forth from ruin

There is one thing I ask.

A simple thing I seek,

If you would permit,

All I ask is this;

Love me as you did.

When…

When my heart has faded

And my memory, erased

When my words have lost all meaning

And my grave, alone, remains

When I have no voice to tell you

I have no hand to hold

When I rise into the ether

And you must stand alone

When my love is merely written

And never spoken out

When the name of Lucy’May

Is poetry, no more

 

When all the seas have risen

When every fire is out

When skies are blackened, ever more

And Earth is standing still

When our own sun has ceased

To radiate it’s light

When all the stars have simmered out

And darkness has prevailed

When life, itself, has ended

Humanity, dismissed

And even our creator’s breath

Has left this place behind

 

When every soul in heaven

Has settled in his place

When our passing, mortal realm

Descends into the night

When the time for parting sorrow

Has come and passed away

When I find you once more, in heaven

And with your spirit, soar

You shall know my voice again

And have my hand to hold

Your name shall never be forgotten

I shall love you, still.

 

Remember

If you should take your life for granted
And give up on the things you sought
Or view the blooming rose you planted
And feel that all you have is nought
If you should walk in verdant meadows
Appraising every blade of grass
If you question every path you chose
Ignoring beauty as you passed
If you grow tired of the way she laughs
Or question ‘is she as she seems’
Then I shall ask what right you have –
To live the only life I dream
 
If you should claim to know the torment
Of living life without a hope
And for the loss of your joys, lament
Pretending that you cannot cope
If you should reach your very summit
And feel you’ve never been so low
If you should live my dream and shun it
As I look on from down below
If you should doubt the virtue in her
Or find her heart lacking in verve
You’re welcome only to disaster
Her love is more than you deserve
 
 
If you should think that you are worthy
Or taint your love for her with lies
If you should hold her close each day –
And never see her through my eyes
If you should know the taste of her kiss
And see its power as mundane
If you should live my dream of bliss
And think you’ve still something to gain
Then you are not the man you once were
And you are not who I shall be
Always, my heart and soul are with her
Always, I live to chase my dream

The Descent Of Man

A right of birth, your worth is not
And neither free nor due,
But only earned in higher thought
And never brawn in lieu.
Your virtue not within your race,
Inherently with you,
One cause alone may form your grace,
The aim your life is to.
 
A heart of lust and shallow trust,
A virus from within,
A blight upon the fair and just,
To fall beside their kin.
A creature no longer required,
An ape in human skin,
To follow savage, wild desire
And pledge their lives to sin.
 
A race apart from faith and art,
A broken, godless clan.
No wisdom or verse to impart,
An empire built in sand.
Can we now find ourselves surprised
If our own souls are damned
To look at ourselves, open eyed,
And witness modern man.