Uncle Albert's Poems: page 7

On and on may worlds revolve, On and on may Man resolve To live; forever falls the snow On turret, tower and field. Jump then, little man, catch The planets at your fingertips; Let your heart rejoice in glory, Your foot yet slips.
"Glory be, its half-past three." Sang Green and Blue (true blue), So they adjourned for quiet tea Until 'twas half-past two. At half-past one the lawyer rang Inviting them to dinner, And he who arrived too early sang The song of a weak sinner. And tea was all they had to soak That solid bastard Teak and Oak.
	There is a dull house. And there A bright one. Empiness However long I stare. Here is a clever girl. That one stupid. Here is a good poem. An on And on the nonsense roars. Whatever was of interest is dull And all the dull things never change; So, in platitude and banal generality The world is summed to infinity. Progress in frenzied sloness. Science. But where is God? He got left behind.
Thunder reverberates in slowness And the gates of Time, destroyed, Crumble; boldly the day Opens into the starry void. Let stars burn out and fade, Let pond drown wooded glade, World crumble into dirt and dust. Peace, cry no more, Earth; The moon is gone for e'er; Let your tears dry in joy That it was never really there.
	Bitter the waning moon And harsh the coyote howl, Dull the tawdry sun And sullen the hoot of owl Cold all life with glazèd Eye with dull life jaded. Fish-stare In your eyes Cannot disguise You are not there.
How would you like to be Quite insane like me, Sail down the river and up round the bend I'm Humpty Dumpty, and me they can't mend. No one will ever see Either you or me Under the bridges of Paris, and you Will be quite barmy, too.
Elephant sees puddle Drinks; no puddle. Puddle see elephant Dries up; no elephant. No beer; all disappear; I was there, and you are here.
	The sight of too great beauty wounds The soft touch of a passing thought. The rock of reason crushes The flowers of the imagination. Cold drops of reason burst The bubble of I .. . Trees stand bare In winterblast ... the rifle, the rose, And the wreath, rain Puddling my thoughts.
	The smoke of the cigarette mounts in coils, Twisting, turning, swiftly swirling Gently spreading, until it fades Into the subtle smoke-glazed haze Of the Universe's aeons. Remains the butt Stubbed out by Death, Chain-smoking. Brief soul Man's smoke rises, By hasty breeze spread, annoyed, Twists and turns distraught; A little whirl of fire, destroyed.
Your golden hair flows through my soul, its pilèd waves Curl o' er the saucy eyebrows arched and shading The sparkling blue-grey jewel-set eyes That laugh at me, their jaunty sparkle Flashing a promise of sweet desired prize Beneath the proud and dainty nose. I see The cupid bow of ruby lips, that curve To melt the loving soul that ever craves Delight and wisdom; quiet of your charms I speak; my words flow on to softly lull The small pink sea-shell ear; but vain, my transient love, Beneath your breathless beauty lies a grinning skull.