Poems For Baby Alpheus

Lips are closed, a little move,

A little turn of head.

What does such soft motion prove?

What word unheard was said?

We may wonder, but not know.

Beauty’s baby steals the show.


Fingers flexing, waving air.

A loving poem wants out, right there!


Such a smile! Tongue ‘tween lips!

The heart of love from out us slips—

Slips and rushes, bows before—

This precious darling we adore.


There is a yawn, a yawn so right,

We don’t care if it’s day or night.

Alpheus, snuggled up so tight,

All of us love with all our might.

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Rain comes for falling,

Wind comes to blow.

Storm comes a-calling,

“Laugh, and then go!”

I’m on a mission,

Kisses to sow;

Real, and not fiction—

Reign, reign, Oh!

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In Irons

You, love, I watched you,

You, under trees;

Leaves all about you,

Buzzings of bees.

Then you went upward,

Straight up a hill;

I was enchanted,

Claimed by your will.

You, dear, I watched you,

You, under sky;

Looked all about you,

Flung your arms high!

Then you soared upward,

Straight up in rhyme!

I was in irons,

Claimed for all time!

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The King

I had grabbed your arm for a second,

Grabbed it, squeezed it tight.

Mine you were, you knew it.

I was the king of night.

Then you looked and smiled,

Twinkles bright in eyes—

I was just a peon

Worshipping the sky.

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Pure Heaven

Oh, l will hold pure heaven on my chest

When you have spoke my poetry to me.

When you have uttered utterings of mine,

And on your mouth l see life’s wonder-sign—

The ever-quiver tremble of lit love,

That vibrates quiet to the stars above—

Then, oh then, oh then—then on my chest!

Yea, I will hold you there! My prize—-Best!

For rhyme in time will come to say my say,

Most masterly come striding down the way,

Like giant now, benevolent in bliss,

With cheeks accepting of a giant kiss.

When you have all my poetry confessed

I’ll hold the purest heaven on my chest.

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Ripped Pillows

Oh, the memorable potion of your poised lips press ,

When our mouths made music out of perfect happiness;

And that evening of quiet—a strong diet of fire—

With its spirit-soft flanes winging higher and higher,

As we felt us through feathers of our pillows ripped open—

Oh, oh! Till that magical action of our slow-moving press

Made our mouths a new music out of pure happiness!

No more higher to go—but our bodies, minds: one—

We were gains in our winning what our living had done!

Now, no, not forgotten—Never, Never! No!

No regret and no fate; again will be so.

One week more, that is all, making three altogether,

Till our one, it is won, as ripped pillows we gather!

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The Race Of One

I love the race of one;

I race myself till my race is done—

Standing alone, number one!

The race of me

Is mine alone;

One race of thought,

And will and act,

Till I become

My highest fact.

True solo races

I, too, do love.

I honor the race of one.

The race of one is noble,

The race of one is high.

Only races of one

Stand stars up in the sky.

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The Silent Height

In the glow of the sun,

In the sun’s great glow,

You were there, hair as fire.

I saw, saw you walking,

A golden glory pure as flame.

Through the green, green of leafings,

Through the trees, on you stepped,

Up the hill, stepped so gently,

Pushing lightly branches back.

Then a clearing, space of quiet;

Strange it was, no birds were there.

On a rock you sat, sat still.

I was listening, there, in quiet;

I was listening, I kept still.

Then I heard it (yea for hearing),

Then I heard your shining voice.

Yes, ’twas shining; how else name it?

Softly glowed it, radiant, too.

Song no others ever heard,

Song of human wind and bird.

Song that I in joy was hearing,

Song of light I’d not betray—

Keep it secret, life endearing,

Singing sunlight, ray on ray.

Then on up you rose so flamelike.

Brighter still you seemed to me.

I knew I, I had witnessed

Sacred one, supremely right,

Alone upon the silent height.

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O, sing the self

And ring the self,

And sing yourself in you.

We’re celebrating self today,

For selves are coming through!

One’s dancing—-there!

One’s writing—-there!

One’s saying something new!

We’re celebrating Self today,

Cause Self is what we do!

The soul of self, it is right high,

And often seems most rare.

It’s in the single, brow-kiss “I”

Of thinking-loving care!

Alone, alone, in solemn place,

It gives your beauty grace;

Is all its own sweet single race

Of glory till it die.

So sing yourself,

And ring yourself,

And swing yourself in you.

Be celebrating Self today,

Cause Self is what you do!

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A Giant Laugh

Strong sun a-burst with all his might

Out of MOUNtainous cloud;

The spires of man he re-ignites

With streaming hold so proud.

Each city on the eastern coast

Blazes!—-a fiery fount!

While busy people glance, and boast,

“Our works are works that count!”

Now stormy clouds a-roll on back;

Deep darkness stuns the day.

But flash-of-man makes bright attack

As thinkers shout, “Hooray!”

Electric stars—-see!—-strongly shine

Against the thick’ning storm,

While through it all I stand alone,

Laughing to see the norm.

A giant laugh for cloud and sun;

A giant laugh for man;

A joyous laugh for all to come

Since giant man began!

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I sit amidst fair trees,

Bare rocks, wee green things growing.

The little stream in midst of these

So quietly is flowing.

A tiny, puffy cloud goes by,

Its silent motion cheering—

At home up in the silent sky,

As I here in this clearing.

A fuzzy bee plays ’round my hand,

Then goes to bounce a flower.

Two butterflies—together—fan

Delight with quick, soft power.

I sit, I hear, I see,

This life around me flowing.

So quietly, so free,

A-going, going, going.

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Upon the hills of my love’s breast the lamplight falls;

On up the hills of my love’s cheeks it ‘gins to rise.

From bridge of nose to forehead slowly goes,

While in between I see the sparks of dang’rous eyes.

A radiant crown of raven blue—-her hair,

As down she flits beside me in her chair.

She offers me two hands, two lips, one kiss,

And in my book I lose my place for this.

The pages slide and flutter, light goes out!

The room is dark, yet seem fair stars about.

I feel the curling petals of some fire

And all my book is one great poem—-Desire!

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With All Our Might (dedicated to Elon Musk)

On rocketship I glide away

From all this mindless, helpless gray

To youthful dream of yesterday

That shines so very bright.

The will to leap now springs so true

That “Blast off” is my thing to do,

And I am man now seeing new

The world so very bright.

The shade of earth is passing by

(With useless chains intil you die);

The altruists are in deny

Of life so very bright.

My happy love-of-life is strong,

I break the bonds of “can’t” with song,

For traitor Kant was ever wrong,

And Reason is so bright!

This profit-venture is my test—

Demands of me my very best;

From mythic gods I gladly wrest

This world so very bright!

The planets, stars, a-one by one,

I take until the taking’s done,

My brother laughing—he, the sun,

Who shines with all our might!

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In Outer Space

I found your face in outer space,

Beyond the farthest stars.

My ship was light, l traveled right,

Sped past the moon and Mars.

Venus was nice, but much too coy;

I wanted someone real.

I shot away from her fake joy

In search of my ideal.

Pluto, oh, a cold, cold hag;

I warped away so fast!

Better off with a wrinkled bag

In permanency cast!

I banked to left, then flew straight on,

Saw glitt’ring stars unknown.

A heaven of jewels spread out like dawn—

And one standing all alone.

So radiant ’twas, green, purple, gold.

Could hardly trust my eyes!

I felt my self in a magic zone

At edge of Paradise!

I nearer went; it shrank away.

In essence, it was shy.

This first for me— on my last day—

To kiss the world goodbye.

Then, when l stopped, it grew so small—

A woman was, so fair!

Nay! She was more than beautiful,

The answer to my prayer!

I leaped from ship, stood by her side;

I breathed, but don’t know how!

I only know that l felt pride.

To see her eyes aglow!

You know the rest, for it was you,

Who’re now my own dear wife.

The loveliest “it” I ever knew,

Sweet partner of my life!

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Tables For Twos

They met at a cafe in Kuala Lumpur.

They sat at a table for two.

Four tables away two old gossips sat. They looked in amaze and gawked. Said one, “Oh, my, it’s Belinda San. She’s sitting with a poet, l know it!”

Then the other said, “Look how close they sit! It’s a scandal! See! She’s leaning closer; he’s leaning closer! Their lips almost touch! And right out in public!”

Then the first one noted, “Look, he’s pulling out a paper from his pocket! And she, too, is pulling out a paper from her pocket! He’s starting to read; she’s starting to read! It must be poems! Look how their lips are synchronized! Can you make it out?”

“Oh, yes. They are saying, I love you, I love you, I love you, over and over. What kind of a poem is that?”

“Should we report them?”

“What for? Bad poetry? And to whom?”

“To the State-against- synchronized-poetry authorities.”

“What for? They’re not hurting anyone.”

“But it’s so wrong.”

“What’s wrong about it? Besides, I’ll tell you a secret.”


“I love you.”

“Oh, I’ve felt it, too. Does that mean we are lesbians, at the age of ninety?”

“Of course not. Dear friends we are. Put your hand under the table. We’ll hold hands, and every time they say ‘love’ we’ll squeeze.”

“Oh, my dear, we’ll soon be worn out! I hope we don’t have heart attacks.”

“Me, either. But aren’t they beautiful?”

“Look, he touched her knee with his knee! Oh, what a dear rascal!”

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Clarinda’s Mooncake

With little notes hid deep inside

The mooncake talks the rebel’s pride.

There ‘re secret notes of secret word;

In secrecy they’re read and heard.

These mooncake rebels, they don’t eat

The whole mooncake—leave incomplete!

For they must know the schemer’s plan.

And if it’s from Clarinda Tan

They’ll see a win—it’s in the peek!

For what she schemes is so oblique

The foe does not know what to seek,

Or where, or when, or how or why.

They only sense—try not to die!

Or, better yet—run and fly!

End of page one. I hope I find page two.

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You, at break of day;

You, rising.

Through the dim-lit rooms you go.

You, moving.

Sun and earth and wind together,

You are my glad-changing weather.

You, climate-face of love—

Sometimes happy—rain of joy;

Sometimes sad—way too hot!

Stormy, calm, wild, serene,

Everything in between.

But always, ever, you.

You, at fall of night;

You, moving in sleep.

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Flutter Back

To you I write a little poem,

That you give it a little home

Within your heart.

To you I sing a loving song,

That it will loveydove belong

Within your heart.

At last I send a bell-like kiss

That it will ring upon your lips

The whole day through;

And when you peek your eyes my way

You’ll flutter back love’s kiss in play

The whole day through.

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The Great Full Moon Over Charlotte

The great moon comes to judge without pity;

Enraptured is by such a beautiful city.

And men raise up their eyes unto the moon and deem it fair,

Of all its joyous trembling unaware.

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Quiet moon and quiet light,

And quiet porch and quiet shade,

Make the middle of the night

The best of quiet ever made.

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One Deed Sublime

When I go “Ha” and you go, “Hee”

In our love’s laughter, Sweet,

I know our dreams are set to be

One life that is complete.

One life, one dream, one deed sublime,

Beginning first with this:

Our lips that touch in lover’s rhyme

Of  yearning, burning kiss!

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On The House

To be a most handsome bee like me

Your stinging must be great.

When Clarinda Nancy Lee is free,

Sting, and do not hesitate.

And if she slaps you off her rear,

Be dauntless, and don’t shed a tear.

Just buzz around, get in her blouse—

She’ll pinch you, but it’s on the house!

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Clarinda Nancy Lee

Came up and said to me,

“My honey, will you be,

Be my honeybee?”

I stung her on the lips,

I stung her on the cheek.

I stung her on her be-hind—

She slapped me very quick!

And now I am be-roken,

But oh, well, what the hecks,

I thought when she had spoken

She really wanted sex!

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Oh, Clarinda Nancy Lee

Oh, Clarinda Nancy Lee

She means so much to me,

She’s sharp as sharp can be.

She has wisdom of a kind;

Oh look, there you’ll find

Such a lovesy dovesy mind!

Oh, and work she does so fast

You blink—and it’s past!

Every job goes in a blast!

And she’s very very sweet—

Washing, she’s complete:

Pulls the socks right off your feet!

Throws them in the sudsy tub—

Rub a dub, rub dub—

“Okay, that’s all for you, bub!”

She’s a laugher good and true—

Mr. Grinner, too!

I love her, and I pursue!

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Ayn Rand’s Birthday

Your birthday, o’er all life-loved days

That we do praise most high,

Though lesser than those greater days

When you stood straight man’s “I”,

With cheering thoughts we celebrate,

With calm, proud words we sing,

The starting you who could not wait

To grasp your first known thing.

That honesty which you began,

And never once let go,

That trademark of heroic man

Which all your writings show,

We honor now, we honor you,

Who self, nor man, let fall,

But, clearing ways to living true

Heroic men did call.

We heard, still hear, love’s selfish thee,

Thou earthly woman high;

Thine whole grand life, in memory,

From us shall mot pass by!

Your birthday, o’er all life-loved days,

Makes ageless youth our prize,

As fountainheads of Atlas praise

Seek anthems of your eyes!

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