Tell Else…

Part VI: Iiv

 

from crease of worst of ease,

& least among the few at rest,

the seasons each advance,

& leisure gladdens oft aside

the old travail behind;

in triple step, reverse at best,

companion, guest or friend,

an ever all familiar to

 

cognate to no other thought,

one moment please or some,

none of these, the least, the last,

I ask of you apiece,

never more than ever that

& never less for none,

neither this nor that above

one moment more beyond

 

or tops of trees as started out,

in form another day,

& startled one the other from

no other than it was,

beyond our reach & close at hand,

described resiliency;

wherever these abide, some few,

as pleached & played the lane about

 

erasures of the other than

the same of shall as well

the remnant of itself o’errun,

and more of wills and mays,

precisely that or not at all,

reversal winds its way,

in specious lay a clock astop,

‘tho presently ajar

 

there’s some of that foolishness,

at least the easy sort,

apt to swallow swords & fire

& burst upon the scene,

first in file, & briefly, lame,

not quick, not quarrelsome,

sooner late than never on

a derring-do above

 

the idleness of tide & shore

inform the other day,

as float away inwardly,

unnamed, uncertain; tame

the feral need, the formal sum,

the numberless among;

once more, as these surcease,

become an ember of

 

& stopped to see the gentle wood,

the blameless too, aloft

in current air more carefully

through mist & spray, through drift

reportedly assort,

& stooped as the bending would,

to be the blameless, too,

the ever so familiar to

 

so ash and sky, so fiery stunt,

‘tho otherwise the same,

resemble less assemblies of

prevailing winds o’er tides,

that are or are not wide nor high

than any overreach

of reason or advantage sort

the silence of, the memory of

Tell Else I Till

Part I: Far Oar

 

insofar as fair, so more:

I’ll have an own, no false

barbarity prevail;

conclusive sooner,

where I go as wrack

or lazily moor toe ruin;

there is a shore, there was before,

an eye on circuit oar

 

far oar,

was it known as, it is

simply no more but such

as another may say half-said;

I had rather than ruder instead

get ahead by a rudder, as much

as it was or yet is

no moor

 

there’s knot-time enough

to mend the hole-ocean

and fill it again with our cups

to our lips, rum-oar lips, to ours

knot-enough before you,

and your only, choose too;

such is even said, I say,

away, bother me, no more

 

no, not like an old love

knot-like anew, not still

until sadness is staid

and itself without notice,

fool of the mimical gladness

that lies with ennui

under, like a tide, agony;

reason goes rhymeless, ebb abides

 

as lack that being alone

sat elemental a stone-fall,

the unpris’d risers above

ground vacant and faint,

and would nor tell, remember,

soe’er some soft scold voices,

as once, nonetheless

a chaos, cool and lame

 

went wrongly more about

and seldom said as much

to no-one close at hand,

attentive who, expansive

to no end & always, dear,

I say, if such may say,

about the seldomness,

no more, that must be sad

 

knot even-eye as

mend a side and reconsider

more are, that tern, so blue

unto the seamlessness,

as cover our recover’d

over cord under cut

and brush a side along

a reed moor lallsome

 

each one say as much

only enough no more as I

and somewhat less perhaps

than not at all, and yet

the root of all is all

or more apt, after all,

a tern turns a’course

what matter who’s about