''Folly''
''Some Proud Roman''
''Some Proud Roman''
poems
by K. Scott Smith
October 24Th, 2011
1).
Say it as if you mean it,
As if you would say it again-
Give it your heart (and some vague meaning)-
Pretend that you would do it again,
But you wont and you wouldn't.
You don't and you couldn't.
Fight whatever is worth fighting-
Drink whatever is worth drinking-
See whatever is worth seeing-
Be whatever is worth being-
When dawn arrived
it found you sober
Sober and unprepared
(For a hundred million years).
Dreams to plague us
with fancy lights
that once seemed beautiful
And mysterious.
Look at what time has done,
Look at what we've done with our time...
Having it's way-
having the final say.
2).
You were pardoned
by the heart
and all the wisdom of reason:
Restraint Ive found
and the lack of restraint that I have visited-
sometimes for years at a time.
3).
Sometimes you fail
Utterly and completely.
4).
Summer has ended,
Completing it's task.
Sleepy, remaining hidden
in the very heart of winter
And a royal Autumn that will proceed it,
Summer is still Winter.
Evening is adored,
and is pardoned entirely for it eagerness,
its boldness and swaying moods.
Tell me what is to come,
of this heart,
bound to and by flesh
and blood and consciousness
I will grow great Ivory tusks!
I will live in the sand,
Or some lowly town.
Unseen-
Never heard from again.
5).
Looking back at the path Ive taken,
And the place Ive come to,
Looking also at what lies ahead-
I am stifled for a moment
by the gravity,
by the forces that I allow to rule so much of me
I mustn't ignore this.
6).
The last place you looked.
A picture in a closet,
Two big leather bags filled with poems,
and a manuscript.
Silver
and Copper
and Gold.
7). October seemed to laugh
and lay playfully in the grass
already drunken and overly Jovial
Rum of rich Tans and Golds.
Each breath, each Sun, each Avenue,
Each vengeful smile,
Each mean promise taken lightly,
Each deed worthy of remembering,
Worthy of retelling,
or never speaking of again.
8).
A river running through a mirror
Of glass
Of paint
A poet's saint.
Gone-
Taken by the same wind that brought her,
delivering her, then carrying her away.
To be adored
from afar
or in dreams
9).
Songs on the hill
Decorative dances
Colorful moonlight
rushes, almost suddenly,
a violent eruption
In the sky-
In your heart-
All at once-
12).
A path.
Old stones and birds
A winding river
A softer burden
And the day was free of any charge,
any responsibility,
except to stay alive.
Summer has indeed ended.
13). The evening swells
and the Earth swoons
all caught in the spell.
In the southern wilderness
I arrive
Like a Saxon Invader-
Or Some Proud Roman.
The End
poems
by K. Scott Smith
October 24Th, 2011
1).
Say it as if you mean it,
As if you would say it again-
Give it your heart (and some vague meaning)-
Pretend that you would do it again,
But you wont and you wouldn't.
You don't and you couldn't.
Fight whatever is worth fighting-
Drink whatever is worth drinking-
See whatever is worth seeing-
Be whatever is worth being-
When dawn arrived
it found you sober
Sober and unprepared
(For a hundred million years).
Dreams to plague us
with fancy lights
that once seemed beautiful
And mysterious.
Look at what time has done,
Look at what we've done with our time...
Having it's way-
having the final say.
2).
You were pardoned
by the heart
and all the wisdom of reason:
Restraint Ive found
and the lack of restraint that I have visited-
sometimes for years at a time.
3).
Sometimes you fail
Utterly and completely.
4).
Summer has ended,
Completing it's task.
Sleepy, remaining hidden
in the very heart of winter
And a royal Autumn that will proceed it,
Summer is still Winter.
Evening is adored,
and is pardoned entirely for it eagerness,
its boldness and swaying moods.
Tell me what is to come,
of this heart,
bound to and by flesh
and blood and consciousness
I will grow great Ivory tusks!
I will live in the sand,
Or some lowly town.
Unseen-
Never heard from again.
5).
Looking back at the path Ive taken,
And the place Ive come to,
Looking also at what lies ahead-
I am stifled for a moment
by the gravity,
by the forces that I allow to rule so much of me
I mustn't ignore this.
6).
The last place you looked.
A picture in a closet,
Two big leather bags filled with poems,
and a manuscript.
Silver
and Copper
and Gold.
7). October seemed to laugh
and lay playfully in the grass
already drunken and overly Jovial
Rum of rich Tans and Golds.
Each breath, each Sun, each Avenue,
Each vengeful smile,
Each mean promise taken lightly,
Each deed worthy of remembering,
Worthy of retelling,
or never speaking of again.
8).
A river running through a mirror
Of glass
Of paint
A poet's saint.
Gone-
Taken by the same wind that brought her,
delivering her, then carrying her away.
To be adored
from afar
or in dreams
9).
Songs on the hill
Decorative dances
Colorful moonlight
rushes, almost suddenly,
a violent eruption
In the sky-
In your heart-
All at once-
12).
A path.
Old stones and birds
A winding river
A softer burden
And the day was free of any charge,
any responsibility,
except to stay alive.
Summer has indeed ended.
13). The evening swells
and the Earth swoons
all caught in the spell.
In the southern wilderness
I arrive
Like a Saxon Invader-
Or Some Proud Roman.
The End
Comment On This Poem ---
``Some Proud Roman``
``Some Proud Roman``
