‘Racehorses, river-songs and rocket-ships”

Racehorses, river-songs and rocket-ships’

 

A so Spring suite of lines & rhymes by Mr. Brent Downes

 

 

I

 

Makin’ love
‘cause it’s warmer now
the suns up
later hours
shinin’ through
shinin’ down on me & you
makin’ love ‘cause

That’s what we do
after the spring’s warmer winds
have blew.
And brought a bit a sparkle
to our eyes

& a bit o- twinkle to the skies

& as evening flies
we’re makin’ love

In the warmer evenin’

Feelin’, kissin’ & breathin’
in
the smell of skin,
that one owned by one another

Makin’ love
‘Cause it’s warmer.

 

So then O- cool skin before me
take not heed
and pay you no mind
to the way of my words
& the fall of my rhymes
& never
pine over things I hearsay
but lets love
in other ways.
By twos and by threes
on blankets woven by spring breeze
cool & kissed with warm

O-kissed lips
moving before me

Come into

The days a dawnin’
and the season’s so slowly warmin’
like my affections
and appetites
&
will to kiss upon the hours of late night.

 

So we’re makin’ love
under the hole in the ozone layer
raisin’ spring hopes
like a prayer
movin’
flirtin’
then some
under distant moon and distant sun,
love on O spring warmed skin
and to me, your honey-song
sing.

 

II

 

Here we go again.

So they say, that when you know
You’re in love, the south easter blows.

And that to kiss, on that wind,
Does once more, romance begin.

So here,
Under a clear.

Evening.
I’m believing.

The little myths they tell us,
and not making much fuss.

But to pen it down, as I see it
Just to record, not to decree it.

On spring, its true of this city
That most of the ladies- pretty,

In their frocks of satin and synthetics
Come, in weather, if it permits.

To watch the horses race
to put a little bet on the horse’s race.

So there are they, crowded around a table with umbrella
And by degrees, a few cocky fellas,

Move with intent to the gathering, to test their luck.
Some leaning on their beers, like a crutch.

And some, by degrees
Get kissed on the south easter breeze.

Noon, or thereabouts
Watching the racers, on the roundabouts

And drinking
and thinking.

A beauty leans over the railing
Not in an charms is she failing

But something in her eye speaks of a melancholy soul
And her pallor seems sad, or cold.

So to her, I make my acquaintance

And for her friendship, I seek patronage.

 

She seemed, at first
Shy, and for drink, the worse.

She proceeded to tell me, by degrees
That her boyfriend had kissed some other on the south easter breeze.

I consoled her
And told her

That it was a most lesser man to discard her so
And I smiled and told her, that such things happen with the south easter blows.

But I invited her, all the same
To share with me her name

And to drink with me, in the pavilion
Where we sat among other civilians

Looking to waste a dollar and a day
Watching the horses line up to race.

A few tears, had she on her cheek
I said, do not weep.

For it is spring
And what ended, now re-begins

And I entreated her, choose a horse
And lend your heart to the races course.

So she gestured, to a white mare

For the race, being prepared.

So to the office, I went, and in her name bid,
Just a few spare quid.

Back to the stands, with more drink to please
The sad, spurned lady I met on the south easter breeze.

The horses lined up and the siren blew
And her white mare shot through

A gap, by the turn
And won by a length, like fire she burned.

So what began as a trifle bet
Won a size of coin for my new friend.

She said she was indebted to me
And I noticed that her sorrow had eased

The lovely spring beauty on the south easter breeze.

So to dinner we went
And many words were said.

Some plain, romantic
All relaxed, nothing frantic

And with the moon, high
I kissed her under evening’s sky

And said, Happy October, Happy Spring,
Be us as Queens and Kings

Be us merry, be us well
And I toasted her health.

And the fortune, that drew us together, by degrees.
Just one so spring day in the south easter breeze.

 

III

Reading Pushkin, who advised, ‘hold the love that comes in dreams’

The love, never doubted, quite secure,
Often jaded, but always pure.
Left its traces on my morning skin.

 

Last night, I followed it, to see where it went,
But it stayed in one place, whirling, whirling.

 

I woke, from a dream I had about a graveyard
And some men singing above the ditches in soft earth
And the words ‘hold the love-

That comes in dreams’

I think instead, to move from dreaming into waking thoughts
and love no others than those who sign there names into my very soul

And still, baring that mark, crave my kisses once more.

 

IV

 

From the skin the wound is bleeding
From the wound, the sorrow seeping,
The red sign of a life spent and gone

To darkness, gone, gone!

Away! AWAY! For I will have no light in dark hours
But on terrors that follow me here
I will have no illumination.

I will bare no words! No words bare me!
From the skin that is torn
So shall I torn be!

As babes are torn from their wombs
Into breathing bloody life.

O-bloody life, O breath filled days
And elapsed times where we have been both breathless and bloodless
what refrain will be here sung
in the shadow of cracked, craven monuments,
blistered skins, icy tears and crystal wine glasses.

Come, let us have a toast.
The final guest
has arrived.

V

Mu armastus,

 

My love

The days are long without you

And with
each passing, empty moment

All the seconds we had
seem fleeting
like kisses that dreams do not remember.

I miss you.

Warm doesn’t seem warm.

Everything
is dull
like
in old pictures.

Everything fades, everything dies.
Except one thing.

And that
is my lips longing for your lips.

 

VI

 

Finale.

Company, I keep,

By the river
next to stars and distant planets,
horizons I chase,
flesh I have gripped
and breaking day.

O spring morning
touch
me,
there on my cheek
with the breeze
that burns
like a kiss
and leaves me wanting more.

I watch
the wind stir the leaves of river trees
and make them fall.

I watch
as people link arms
meet each other’s lips.

I watch the rocket ships.
Meet the stars.

And I sail with them
On their winds, in their wake
blazing, the candle burning bright
the heaven that bends above lovers tonight
things I have said and things I might,
Let me make the charm!

Let me make the spell and make the rhyme
And like the rocket-ship, climb
And gaze on breezes and dreamers
and beauty
& sand & star & sea.

And me.

By the river
Singing songs.
makin’ sounds
makin’ love,
doing my rounds,

Doin’ as I do

Loving the spring sky blue
it’s so spring,
so you,
come to the
room where love is made
and things are said,
stories done,
Lovers – it is faerie time, get thee to bed.

Squalls of lorikeets sing and squawk around my head

And its spring, starry skied spring
kissing breezes, spring
The breeze is blowing
the terror in my heart
named ‘love’ is growing.

I bathe in the glowing
of evenings spent
in and out
of love.

In and out of sorts.

Among the words.

Looking for a sign.
Speaking in tongues
and watching the time

Makin’ love

Doin’ fine.

 

Fin