Poems That Changed the World: Book A

Poems that

Changed the World

BOOK A

The Uptown Poet

Jeff Larson

Copyright © 2020 by The Uptown Poet - Jeff Larson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 09/14/2020

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The Poet writing outside at Calhoun Square, Uptown Minneapolis, MN.

CONTENTS

You called in Autumn

Good night - say our souls

Deep in the Wildwood

A sad, sad thought

A walk with time

At least

At the age of 47

Certainty, is far the lesser evil

Do you remember back when

Every poem written

Gifts

If all things sand

If I go first

It’s too late

La Journey

Lessons over Time

Searching for something (Jenny)

Surrender

Survived

The Door

The Gallant Young Men

The girl in the yellow raincoat

Then to rebuild, or rebuild not

This is the good part

‘Written to her later that Day"

The Uptown Poet

You called in Autumn

(One)

You called in Autumn

                                At the right time

                                A time when my blood

                                Runs rich with words, and images

                                That my body can’t contain

                                Until the pen, releases them

                                Pictures

                                Of your face

                                At an outdoor café,

                                The sweet smell of walnut in the air.

                                Oak leaves

                                Floating like ships

                                On mysterious journeys

                                Sit still, in the air…

                                And are gone

                                I am looking away,

                                Hand on the table

                                And I feel it,

                                your touch

                                your hand upon mine

                                even now…

                                all these years later

                                I cannot find words

                                For how full

                                In that moment

                                Your touch made me feel

                                Day upon Autumn day

                                And on into Winter

                                I would visit the shop

                                Where you worked

                                Always with new reasons

                                At times saying…

                                I was just, passing by

                                The truth, now

                                After all these years, is

                                I was never…

                                Just, passing by

                                October 2004 J.

Good night - say our souls

Good night

                                  Says the child mother

                                  To the child

                                  Good night

                                  Says the child

                                  To the child mother

                                  And the phantom of the opera

                                  And the spirit of Shakespeare

                                  Stand on the edge

                                  Of the ending of time

                                  Whispering in each other’s ears

                                  Sonnets never written

                                  Appassionato’s never sung

                                  Socrates is stand near

                                  Above, are God, and Son

                                  Good night

                                  Says the sun

                                  To the moon coming on

                                  It is, says the moon, to the son

                                  Hello

                                  Says the dream, to the dreamer

                                  Come hold me

                                  Says the lover, to love

                                  Tomorrow

                                  Says the man who is losing

                                  Today

                                  Says the man who has won

                                  Oh, hear me

                                  Says God

                                  To his people

                                  We do

                                  Say the lovers, to love

                                  12/22/1981 J.

Deep in the Wildwood

                                    Day into night

                                    Goes river by stream

                                    Long in the absence

Is the quiet thought

                                    Swept out from beneath

                                    The well walked stage

                                    Sunlight and shadow

                                    In a slow, soft dance

                                    Frequently spoken

                                    Were the heart song tales

                                    Pierced from the lips

                                    Of birds in flight

                                    While deep in the valley

                                    By the wild wood stream

                                    Quiet as absence

                                    The messenger sits

                                    Spun like a fable

                                    clothed to the crown

                                    spoken in whispers

                                    proclaimed from the hills

                                    in corridors twisting

felt, like a ghost

                                    its body long buried

                                    the lover’s lips, mute.

                                    Passing by lamplight

                                    As midnight is nearing

                                    Its motions the jury

                                    To Autumn and brow

                                    Back comes the string

                                    And on go the living

                                    Valley and mountain

                                    And town, in between

                                    One, then another

                                    The sound of the footsteps

                                    To brook in the ridge

                                    To boulder and stream

                                    The orchards of lemon

                                    Avocado, and seed

                                    Children waken

The aging ones sleep

                                    While…

                                    Deep, in the wild wood

                                    The messenger…

                                    Sings

                                    6/13/2006

  J.

A sad, sad thought

All the history lived along these streets

                      Suggests to me, so much has come, and gone

                      It is a sad, sad thought to think about

                      It is, the very passing of our time

                      And when our time is passed, we will be gone

                      Our daughters and our sons must carry on

                      Tell them how it was

                      Tell them how it really was