Thursday, August 30, 2012

2 Poems Maurice Burford

I thought this was a wonderful couple of poems from Maurice B. on seemingly Grailish themes.
Thanks for letting me post them MB.



Galahad

try to burn
lots of barns
said Whitman
who was pure
in a foolish sense
trying to save anyone
the grail was dead
invented green knight
who was dead
in the womb too
but his flesh fell into
the grail & a flashlight
brought him back
singing a classic song
of film & televisual repute
nervous over the war
nervous over his glasses
nervous over the cup
the fool too
drinks hard liquor
of story
to make all the dead
stay under
elm tree range
no human
is so distinct
except when dreaming
& the fool not fooled by fog
of lost land coming out
no sex in the cup
just as the land
is the story of the body
the grail thinks
no one fucks
the grail thinks
I am there past the moon
as common as misplaced
no better for it
damp with pumpkin sweat
don’t worry about the weather
folks will only estimate  




Merlin

go to jail
with the dollars
of your body
naked but not moved
police-man headed
magic hangs better
in the spirit
caught & died
into it
the spokes of
the fool
at least Merlin
bedded the river
like a mannequin
crackle of tape
stretched over tar
forms our radio’s
hide
the future we
have come to
is the flag
dipped in grail
the people
disengage
from their loins
let the sand of
the ocean hover
insert oneself
into the chill
of the ocean
a prison
a jail
for political ghosts
we are
the enemy
of ghost grails
so hit the road
hit the lady
with the sword
for no end