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Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

My book the Illustrated Omar Khayyam is available on Amazon.com. For the season the price for the paperback is marked down. If you type out my name you shall see it like Jesus among thieves, in this case among pious fraud who sell Holy Spirit, divine Healing, interpret your dreams and what not.

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/bennymkje

benny

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Jenny kissed me when we met,

Jumping in a hoop from the floor;

Time, you thief, know you not,

Sink into that skull, law is clear:

Say she made the move, it’s no use,

Say what you’ll but law gets your throat;

Say it was her fault, no use,

She is a Jail bait.

benny

Original Version

Jenny kissed me when we met,

Jumping from the chair she sat in;

Time, you thief, who love to get

Sweets into your list, put that in!

Say I’m weary, say I’m sad,

Say that health and wealth have missed me,

Say I’m growing old, but add,

Jenny kissed me.

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I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,

Borne, like a vapor, on the summer air;

I see her tripping where the bright streams play,

Happy as the daisies that dance on her way.

Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour,

Many were the blithe birds that warbled them o’er:

Oh! I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,

Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.

2.

I long for Jeanie with the daydawn smile,

Radiant in gladness, warm with winning guile;

I hear her melodies, like joys gone by,

Sighing round my heart o’er the fond hopes that die:

Sighing like the night wind and sobbing like the rain,

Wailing for the lost one that comes not again:

Oh! I long for Jeanie, and my heart bows low,

Never more to find her where the bright waters flow.

3.

I sigh for Jeanie, but her light form strayed

Far from the fond hearts round her native glade;

Her smiles have vanished and her sweet songs flown,

Flitting like the dreams that have cheered us and gone.

Now the nodding wild flowers may wither on the shore

While her gentle fingers will cull them no more:

Oh! I sigh for Jeanie with the light brown hair,

Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.

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Where have you been, South Wind, this May-day morning,—

With larks aloft, or skimming with the swallow,

Or with blackbirds in a green, sun-glinted thicket?

2.

Oh, I heard you like a tyrant in the valley;

Your ruffian haste shook the young, blossoming orchards;

You clapped rude hands, hallooing round the chimney,

And white your pennons streamed along the river.

3.

You have robbed the bee, South Wind, in your adventure,

Blustering with gentle flowers; but I forgave you

When you stole to me shyly with scent of hawthorn.

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Pulled from a life some leaves in evergreen

Or dressed like fragrant crinoline draped


Over shadows by di Chirico, stolen

From a station where trains never run


And set up in a tableau in the parsonage at Haworth

The three sisters with Chekovian overtones


Stood round the table where their mirrored forms

Await the blast of the last judgement’s call to make them


Take that final walk across the heather mantled moor.


Down vain corridors I searched for some leaf token

Of a life unlived, a faded mignonette or four leaved clover


Down a pathway closed forever by the twists of fate:

The shadows of you gone still took the night


And I was left alone to face the painful light.

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For beauty being the best of all we know
Sums up the unsearchable and secret aims
Of nature, and on joys whose earthly names
Were never told can form and sense bestow;
And man has sped his instinct to outgo
The step of science; and against her shames
Imagination stakes out heavenly claims,
Building a tower above the head of woe.
Nor is there fairer work for beauty found
Than that she win in nature her release
From all the woes that in the world abound;
Nay with his sorrow may his love increase,
If from man’s greater need beauty redound,
And claim his tears for homage of his peace.

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IMG_1356

I repent the dream I lost in Time’s womb;

Perchance Life hides from me a dream to plumb:

Not satiated with the dream to come

Nor what on my skull in cipher writ: Tomb.

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