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Best Poems From
YEN CRESS
(3/9/43)
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13.
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The Song of the Lark (Pantoum)
Alone, alone, I listened to a song,
The lovely, floating warble of a lark.
I heard the notes come drifting, clear and strong,
Until the daylight faded into dark.
The lovely, floating warble of a lark-
Its melody caressed my troubled soul
Until the daylight faded into dark
And velvet night concealed the gentle knoll.
Its melody caressed my troubled soul
While yet I lingered, charmed by peace and grace,
And velvet night concealed the gentle knoll
Before I left that sweet, enchanted place.
While yet I lingered, charmed by peace and grace,
I memorized each shimmering, silvery tone,
Before I left that sweet, enchanted place-
Then I was once again alone, alone.
I memorized each shimmering, silvery tone;
I heard the notes come drifting, clear and strong,
Then I was once again alone, alone.
Alone, alone, I listened to a song.
Yen Cress
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14.
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A Trio of Triolets on Clouds
*****CIRRUS
Wild horses fly across a pathless plain,
Their filamented manes and tails afloat.
No mortal hand determines their domain;
Wild horses fly across a pathless plain
Undisciplined and free. Ahead they strain
To verdant pastures far and fields remote.
Wild horses fly across a pathless plain,
Their filamented manes and tails afloat.
*****CUMULUS
Vanilla ice cream mounded on a plate,
Enough for us, and plenty more beside-
A summer holiday to celebrate!
Vanilla ice cream mounded on a plate
Will melt and drip, so eat it up-don't wait!
Come now and share the luscious treat outside-
Vanilla ice cream mounded on a plate,
Enough for us, and plenty more beside!
*****STRATUS
The angels shear the softest fleece from lambs
And make a quilt to bundle up the earth.
They never use the wool from ewes or rams;
The angels shear the softest fleece from lambs.
It's warm enough for babies in their prams,
And snug enough to swaddle them from birth.
The angels shear the softest fleece from lambs
And make a quilt to bundle up the earth.
Yen Cress
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15.
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Act 3
Many years ago now, she was young and alive,
And she thought, without doubt, soon her ship would arrive;
So she bided her time, learning how to survive,
Till she fitted right in like a bee in a hive.
She had friends who were colorful, friends who were bright.
They worked hard in the daytime and partied at night.
She was happy and free, in those days of delight,
Then a new cast of characters came into sight.
Evil circled around her like nothing she'd seen
As an innocent child playing catch on the green-
Ruthless dealers in drugs-getting rich, acting mean,
Shedding blood, catching victims-and her in between.
What a farce she played out as she fought for her soul
On a stage set with horror-a bottomless hole!
She was smiling and smooth and appeared rather droll.
She was laughing and gay, while her spirit they stole!
Now she sits here and wonders with tears in her eyes
Why she dallied with danger and listened to lies.
All those actors on stage had a dark enterprise-
They were merchants of death in seducing disguise!
She was caught in their trap with a lifetime to grieve,
For she listened to tales they continued to weave
With a pretense of caring while they made her believe.
They entwined her sweet spirit until she couldn't leave.
Is there anyone list'ning? Can anyone hear?
In this black-curtained playhouse, her cries disappear.
For no matter how heartfelt, no matter how clear,
Drama played in the dark cannot hope for a cheer.
She performs for an audience lost in a trance.
They have honored her show with no more than a glance,
Caring not that this tragedy cost her her chance
For a lifetime of happiness, health, and romance.
What a waste! What a shame! What a crime to the soul!
Yet the hearts of the audience harden like coal.
They have seen it before, gloomy role after role,
And the plot is the same, on that stage like a hole.
Have you seen it yourself? Are you touched? Are you sad?
Do those actors pull tears? Do they make you feel mad?
Do you think, as you watch each young miss and each lad,
That the plot is a hoax, the director is bad?
It's your turn to react-not to sleep in your seat!
Let's get rid of those liars-each dealer, each cheat!
Give our young ones a chance to know joy, life complete.
Send the demons and drugs to the hell of defeat!
Yen Cress
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16.
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Apocalypsis
Kindled by the sun-warmed high-desert soil
Bright patches
Glow on untamed hillsides.
Is this the edge of the world?
What lies beyond
This vermilion brilliance?
Is this a portent of
The raging fires of hell?
Hot and flaming,
Almost smell of smoke,
Of scorched flesh
And singed hair
Assaults the senses.
Or perhaps the splendid spread
Reflects the glorious gleam
Of heaven's infinitely broad
Golden boulevards.
What lies beyond these poppy fields?
Yen Cress
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