tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090873338484746413.post8068624018210907653..comments2023-10-26T02:06:34.574-07:00Comments on Warren's Words: Eleven Addresses to the Lord - John BerrymanWarren Falconhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17565326018217016651noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4090873338484746413.post-56532957231533926932022-01-15T12:06:46.132-08:002022-01-15T12:06:46.132-08:00O Mighty Beyond The Chimney Yet Under The Bed - On...O Mighty Beyond The Chimney Yet Under The Bed - One Address To The Lord After Berryman's 'Eleven' Astutter by Warren Falcon<br /><br />for Andrew <br /><br />'I don't try to reconcile anything' said the poet at eighty, <br />'This is a damned strange world.' - John Berryman* <br /><br /><br />I beg (as did Berryman as did <br />also Job) Do not give up on me <br />drag me (gently) pull me (tug <br />tenderly) gather me (dew me <br />softly cover) do not delay <br />Shepherding (O Numberless One, <br />Creator of the Majestic Zero <br />beyond all counting, that I may <br />be beyond 'the Ninety and the Nine'** <br />so) woo me (though a cold bed I <br />am and make, though human hand <br />pen/paw at Thee O Mighty beyond <br />the chimney yet under the bed <br /><br />yet (pillow me) pillow me plead I <br />'that my chaff might fly'*** and my <br />eyes dimned be turned toward what <br />glimmer remains of corners dark in <br />recessing mind, O Lord, would have <br />You take (mine) mind shake the <br />stiffness necked naked hairs numbered <br />over all the fading flesh of me <br /><br />Now (love even me/sand-one-grain) <br />let Blood stain to Purity; what once <br />is rendered endures, that one moment, <br />may, where self-will wilts, (only) <br />You do what You Will to in me instill <br /><br />Einfall**** <br /><br />You spill then to me <br />in torrent, rinse, fling out drear <br />dark (say it Elizabethan) Sin, <br />score yet that long longing for <br />You wrung: Look. Shake me out. <br />Drained (I am) for wanting that <br />You (might YOU) Force me far <br />to me Freshest Be <br /><br />What hands I have cannot grasp <br />or reach (draw You in) <br /><br />for now my tongue must serve <br />all that (or type or pen thin <br />ink (India*****) to (You/Not You) <br />convey impossibly <br />Warren Falconhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17565326018217016651noreply@blogger.com