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Best Poems From
MICHAEL BUHAGIAR
(13 January 1954)
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21.
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Echo Point 1: Echo Point, The Blue Mountains
Stone, the emblem of the timeless become space
- Oswald Spengler
The Three Sisters sing ‘You Can’t Hurry Love.’
The floor spreads out in rolling waves,
All tidal pulses and sailors’ graves,
And swells of broccoli carpet above.
The cliffs surge into awestruck view,
Like planes of war on a carrier’s deck
That once hid in its vast infernal neck
Till lips convulsed to gape and spew.
Persephone blooms from hell to the air.
The gravedigger climbs an invisible stair
To the stage, in each rustic hand a long bone,
And grinning strikes a lively tune
On a row of skulls, as the theatre’s stone
Looms raw, as if for a cathedral hewn.
Michael Buhagiar
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22.
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Echo Point 4: Theme in a Bass Clef
Stone, the emblem of the timeless become space
- Oswald Spengler
What do the isles of cliffs encode
Placed like studs of gold with such art
That this velvet shows an endless road
To the eye that quests for the hidden heart?
It is this, the secret heart of the matter,
Rising from the sunless depths of the sea
That the Holy Grail within may utter
The Word of God from its every tree.
Thus, the palimpsest yawns the planes to disgorge,
And the roar they make is the gravedigger’s song,
And the flames of Gertrude’s faggots forge
A bomb that for rudeness of cliffs atones.
For the cliffs are dark when drowned below,
But, lifting their cheeks to the sun, they glow.
Michael Buhagiar
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23.
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Echo Point 5: Eclogue in a Berlin Street
Stone, the emblem of the timeless become space
- Oswald Spengler
Christopher Brennan Deep in the wildest valley of my soul
I sense something nameless struggling to be born.
I feel the merest fraction of a whole,
Rank afterbirth of midnight stains my dawn.
Old Euler is lecturing on Homer today…
Aleister Crowley I divine that between two poles you are torn.
Your nerves are shot and fear has held sway
Since the great god Phallus began to annoy.
You should chuck your degree and go your own way
And dwell no more on the sack of Troy.
Christopher Brennan
How could I abandon that beautiful tongue?
The Greeks have been my inspiration and joy,
A diamond that shines from a sea of dung.
Now so often at my desk while thinking hard
I feel a sudden jolt as if stung.
Aleister Crowley The Scorpion is your sign, and Death your card…
Christopher Brennan
They revealed to me forms which the Church holds obscene,
The Beauty that shattered forever my guard,
Standing and sunlit and balanced and clean.
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Aleister Crowley But where is the Classical symbol for infinity,
All breasts and hips of an Egyptian queen
Reclining for a Caesar to enter her sea?
Christopher Brennan Your image is strong, it sings of a world
Rich like the ground of a magical tree.
Aleister Crowley Like leaves in autumn, all yellow and curled,
Classical beauty is brittle and frail.
But I drive by night with sails unfurled
In search of Death and the Holy Grail.
From the loins of Babalon and the Serpent-Lion
Has sprung the Word to supplant your braille,
The fiery Lord of the coming Aeon.
Know that every man and woman is a star,
And trust in your own self to guide you on.
Christopher Brennan My soul shall be the barque to carry me far.
But of what shall I sing when the nights grow cold?
Aleister Crowley The only theme of Heru-Ra-Ha:
The cliffs of gold, the cliffs of gold.
Michael Buhagiar
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24.
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Homage to Eric Clapton
A seed once fell onto English terrain
Where wars had thicked the soil with much blood;
And its roots struck deep into Satan’s brain
On the side where feeling and melody bud.
And it thrust through years like a rebel army
Though deserted by sun and the rain close behind;
And a luthier culled one of its strongest rami
To craft an instrument with Segovia in mind.
Now the southwind spurs its belly, and there rears
Chaliapin, Sinatra, Caruso, all capped
By a song that crowns like cream the milch tree;
And a dark and haggard dryad appears
From a bole and croaks it is Clapton trapped,
And by the soaring topmost branch set free.
Michael Buhagiar
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