RJR_Poems

THE MAGDALENE

Hair of blood a strand .

Bottle- green leaf beneath small tender feet*
£yc*s upward pleading through the heat_vBeauty that^fs learned honesty through love,
tinder the agonising form of heart's majesty
Nailed severely to crossed beams of wood*

A tender, piteous look her reward ■ ■
lor all reformed fidelity to grace_f '■ .
Grace for grace she yields • ■

Without severity, his mother beside her*

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

""S

/ ■' " ■ -v" ' CMA1MTEU8E

Lifting up-'a mother* a voice to a baby¹ a deafened ear,

The thrilling lilt become maternal kiss*

The perfect, tiny shell cradling a child's understanding

Of pain and surgeon⁹s fine knife•

While shei a little waitress* stunning in her gown*

Sings deep hurt through the steely microphone_v

Dark lined light eyes» ringlets_f mouth kiss to kiss*

Gives goose flesh to her husbands and adntlrertiU

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

TOMORROW

■"A

Tomorrow is always the word?

The work to fcfe done, the campaign, the finishing touch.

Yet tomorrow may be cancelled, aborted, blotted out*

Where do^s thi? leave us hanging

Out

o_x

mid~career_f

In love ot not/, off key, self •centered.
Where do we go if there's no tomorrow?

- f

Robert Joseph Roaenberg

■A'¹

■■■■ TO THE TOWER

It has come the breakfast hour

I alone come to the tower

Of unbelief and discontent,

I do not have to pay the rent*

I ascend in gilded elevator

In the direction of the Creator.

Peace, I have a little money in my purse,

So bless the tower for lunch and do not curse.

Time is moving forward like a hearse,

Down the dreaming street into the sun,

Moving like a skeleton*

Down corridors as if in dreams

I greet the lawyers in their schemes₀

Well might I have been one of these

If 1 had not caught a rare disease.

So I go on. from da}/ to day

But half awake and half in play*

Tbe ugly duck became the swan

Because someone struck him on the crown.

But Beatrice in an evening gown

Could express all this in a frown.

Robert: Joseph Rosenberg

THE BLIND MAN WITH THE WHITE BULL PUP

The blind man with the white bull pup

Walked rapidly away from, the bus, half dragging his dog

over the new fallen snow

As if some quiet joy transformed his darkness of sense₀He had told us he was going away to California*
"His beauty hurt me so,¹¹ the girl said a
And who is the one in the new boots?
"Caruso was the greatest¹* he said₀ Mentioning casually

Lanza and McCormick*

He was a singer* Ke had sung Silent Night for $300•
Now he had a girl pregnant in Milwaukee,
Whom he did not care for, whom he could hardly abide and

he held just taken his blood test*
He did not want to go to jail,
"Fame wears out like a shoe," he told me*
He spoke of show business, of strippers and comedians
And success and travel, to the Derby, to Minnd Beach and Reno,
Fie had been in the business since as a boy he had lost his father.
He didn't like the police in this town*

He had run away from a jaywalking ticket and been held on suspicion
Because he did not want to pay the $2 fine*
He tried to sell me an imported gold. Swiss movement watch for $10«

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

/v-

TIBERIUS

Upon the leonine hills overlooking Galilee
The buildings crouch like little cats*

Before the quay's old stones

Across from Jordan's bones,

Before the ruined mosque, the fishing boats,

I hear the chorus of a thousand throats«

"Home of Michigan Auto Parts, Ann Arbor"_f

Signs of the times here in the harbor*

We seek a lodging_f a Hasid is the clerk,

He makes his duty a religious work.

He knows I've eaten pork.

There is no room under the hooked sky*

Perhaps I will wake up today,

Rabonim in damp foggy fur

Gesticulate? as in a fable,

Suddenly we¹re at the ponderous oaken door,

Imagination sees a baby on the table.

The scene is lit by febrile candles wild

That bow before the innocent little child.

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

THE SILENT MUSE

Rather than lift the white plumed pen
I'll wave the handkerchief again.
Surrender with a child's fear
Or maiden's prayer, to reach your ear₀

As on the page I spit rare poet's blood

(who would have lifted winged time's vast flood)

And copiously bored await the bitter end
That such loving punctuation does portend.•

No testament I glee, nor sooth the gods_fYet never man won through such bitter odds
To silent serve the state, contain his rage
And save oblivion with a printed page,

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

SNOW

Snow falls swiftly, starlets of pearly white,
Fall swiftly from, veiled heaven's gray light a
Each crystal a divine geometry,
Kaliedescopic minstrelsy!

The earth sleeps after rut and heavy is its rest.
The road is frozen on the steep hill's breast.

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

SORROW IN THE MORNING

Sorrow in the morning, in mourning for love,

'Why are the birds silent?

Why do the flowers droop

And the trees seem, dead and stark©

It is because you are so far away*

Distance and years separate us.

We have so little and so much to say₀

A kiss will make all well.

I have played awa}^ my young years*
In sorrow I wait for you*

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

IN ANCIENT MIME

In ancient mime,
In footed rhyme,
The artist speaks_$The heart breaks ₀

In weeping strings.
In many things _fThe heart knows
A language close„

In olden books _fIn silent looks
We find the spring
Of good remembering.

In spaces small,
In pillared hall
The human breast

Find ^f s its heart * s res 1

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

A REMEMBRANCE

Ah, someone has pressed roseleaves into the moon
This rnoonswept night , a single star shines above*
My herald# I do not know where you have gone
Or why you have been so long, my love,

WINE

See, my beloved, I am become a vine.

My heart is a tough, dry vine

Where songs will blossom like black grapes

To make you wine*

WINTER

Silently the hoarfrost came
Decorating branch and limb.
Lovely winter is a dame
And shc$ our sorrow plumbs,

SEA FOG

So pass Scylla and Charybdis
In the morning mist -

Sea fog - after your kiss,

So pass Scylla and Charybdis.

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

OH, GUN

Oh, gun you need a youth to kill

Before of life he's drunk his fill

And then when you've grown hot

Wi th 1 us t, you need a res t

And know a knot

Is tied, untied within a woman's breast,

TO GILDA

The angels put out their lanterns©
There is a rainbow round the moon.
Would you like to go to Algiers with me

And keep a pet Bar bar}/ ape,

Or sail the coast, of China in monsoon?

SHARD

A fruit tree reminds me of fair Jean
Who keeps her dancing feet so clean*
In politics she is a rogue!
I think dear Jean may have the fugue•

And Freda of the laughing mouth,
When, she is sad there is a drouth«

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

. THEY HEALETH ME

Tears runneth clown as salt as sea,
They healeth me₀

And little children In their glee

And lovers walking on the lea*

They healeth me.

Down my cheeks the teardrops course

For things have gone from bad to worse

Until I sought relief in verse

And over all from ancient scores

A Heavenly music pours.

It healeth me,

THE BLUEJAyS SONG

A bluejay perched on a hollow tree.
It was his will to sing to me
This bleak November melody*
•'Fickle is woman, fickle Is fame,
There is no hell like a bad name.¹*
I thanked him for his little lay.
He cocked his head and flew away.

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

TO A PEACOCK

Peacock on the gorgeous lawn
Yawn and sing a peacock^fs song.
It is time for neighboring
So j our n.i ng i n the s pri ng •

Woodcock and hen

Have just begun

Their nature^f s duty₀

How blissful and how game the land

Where there's no tax on beauty*

THE FOUNTAIN

The fountain tossed its crystal mane
And. scattered drops of dewy rain a

Admired, by all the piebald crowd
It tossed its noble head and bowed.
How bright the sun within its waters!
How admirable the fountain's daughters
That pass the flood of civic fame
And leave me rest without a name*

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

NINA ■

You are named, for ship I respect«
Your sides are like a caravel©

Beyond, the burning village, the bloodsoaked sickle moon,

Westward seek Indies of spices, of quaint beasts.
Your cross emblazoned sails belly out
Westward? to hail a Queen*

CHURCH BELLS

'Who can hear the church bells

Away beyond the church woods ?

They say the Angelus

And ring away our evil moods.

Church bells affright demons, who lurk

Where children play and men must work_c

Who hearing them would not stop and pray

Upon a merry summer's day?

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

OUR LADY OF THE ROSE GARDEN

The brilliant birds sing among red roses.

A single butterfly hovers for their nectar*

In scarlet seated Our Lady demurely holds a handkerchief,

Seated sweetly in contemplation*

Angles are secret beings, present though now unseen₀They beat the air with melodious wings*
All has been accomplished.
Crowned by her Son for eternity,
It is an eternity of repose*

Queen, of Heaven have compassion on me.

TO ST. ANTHONY

Saint of the simple, saint of the poor,
She is but a lovely, foolish whore,
Reach her as you reached the fishes,

Inform her of the greatest riches
And this poor girl to Jesus lead
For as we in the Bible read

He said, let him first throw the stone
Who has no sin that is his own*

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

THE CHERRY

Wee bird on the sill of spring

To every heart that yet can sing
Br ing gl ad. t idings i

The cherry tree Is hung with silver.

Tis April and the sun and rain
Have waked the sleeping earth again*
The verdant grasses do appear_fIt Is the best time of the year.

The cherry now Is hung with silver*
From every bough the buds are bursting
Forth sweetly to set me thirsting
For merry love₀

Behold, the cherry tree*

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

CROWS

Crows

Athwart the sky

Riding air currents

Black as lampblack

With a sheen

Of blackness•

They spread their fingered capes

And measure the country roundabout

Seeking seeds and grubs

To feed their downy young*

They caw eternally

Of death and desolation

And the prophet's worth*

Their race
Is shot at
But respected.

Robert .Joseph Rosenberg

DESPAIR OF THE SLEEVE

Despair of the sleeve, who left his glove.

It was a breeze that whispered, love*
Whose leathern sleeve promised reward.
It was made where music was scored*
Whose buckle glittered like a sword©
Who opened the door, it was the Word.

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

HONEYMOON

In the less expensive afternoon, in my dazzling bloodshoes
The little boy shined with his friendly, crafty soul,
Sauntering past barbershops, pornography, poolhalls in

c omp1et e v1rtue₉

Easily amused by a cur sleeping on the hot sidewalk,
A little trolley jingling through the trees,
Stray eyes and. distant buttocks_f the arrogance of autohorns
In competative railery, agnostic worship of speed and power,
Voices like rain, avoiding the vendors of flowers and luck,
The pimps, hacks and guides,

Casually alarmed by a gaunt, rotting specter folded in her shawl,
Feet in a bag, head in a sack,

Sipping a daquiri, listening to the hot chatter of marracas,
The melancholy thump of guitar, gay harmonicas,
In a mambo requested by a visiting British lady also sipping

a daquiri,

Whose ceaseless monologue is infrequently interrupted by a sip.
This lady who speaks of her previously vegetable existence to her
Fruity friend, marraca salesmen, castanet salesmen stalk me,
Flower peddlers assault my wife* with gardenias, with wilted

red bouquets
For her black hair* smiling with warm eyes, counting the amazing

coins,

Clutching the exact, cool circles in their dirty hands
That are tamales, rice and beer and a cigaret for the fall

of the night.

HONEYMOON (cont.)

Red eyes wink in the sky. Little black boys on one rollerskate apiece
Fly down the crowded Prado, skidding among the promenaders

and ourselves
With one long call of pride and defiance«

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

THERE WAS A GARDEN

There was a garden gone to ruin
The weeds stood, up rank high
And flowers yet: they blossomed there
Each year to born and die₀

And the}^ were beautiful, and strange
More fairer than the tame,
And my old love for you, my love,
It blooms for you the same.

You left me for another one

I do not know his name

But my sick heart Is singing still

And my flowers burn like flame₀

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

DEPARTURE

The Ice breaking in the river is birds singing*

The grays and blues are birds wings enfolding*

The bright grass out of the earth is rich in unborn young»

Running away was done.

There was only a strain of bitter and a stain of sour-
Left to me*

Sails were* The racing seas and the gulls of morning were*
The high clarion seas where the river ran*
The river between and under cities of smoke,
Where cInders wh ir1ed 11ke hawks,

The river between groves and willows, brushing the water

with long, feathery, silver leaves»

The seci was burning cold and alive with fish racing their currents.

Cold and alive* And over the seas swayed the sun and moon*

Distance was changed to time. Time was nights and days.

Distance became life and space, with the simplicity of a good dream_c

The trials of storm. were« And the raging maniac seas pouring
And towering storm against the walls of ships, the fragile walls

of life.

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

TO GAIL, YOUR PICTURE

Look out the window at the moving trees
And know I cherish these to bloom for thee.

Know too, that In the silence of my cell
You are the honey that I eat in Hell.

See_f my beloved, 1 am become a vine.

My heart Is a tough, dry vine

Where songs will blossom like black grapes

To make you wine₀

TO GAIL

My days have all died on the spears of your eyes_fBright with the drug of their knowing.
You have cut me down to a smealier size

While I was growing„

Now I am free as the wind or the sea,
With only my thoughts to care for me,
With only my heart to comfort me.

The strangled vision leaves a bloodtrail over the ceiling,
The magic bird flits through the open window,
Now the curtains flop in the timeless wind*

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

Spring has faded like a gtrl
Blossomed as a woman
And love is hiding in the trees
In and out of season«

Angles sing in golden rings
A song to times beginning*

Angels dance in sweet blue rings
In twilight and the eveninga

Softly, love.

The rained darkness summons
The shattered sword to battle
And the stifled, lark to sing,
Anywhere anytime♦

A poem can grow

In the heart of snow

But not in the eyes of fear*

A song can bloom

In a prison room

And leap away like a deer,

And travel as far as art

May go or hope can dance

In the sinews of the heart.

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

The Encyclopedia Salesman \s Lament

I am walking up streets dressed for summer.
Cracked glass in my shoe.

The imitation pigskin samplecase Is as heavy as my heart
Because I am without you.

My darling of the Office of Fiscal Affairs, Department of War,
Typing requisitions and balances, Secret, Top Secret,
When shall I see you and take you in my arms.

If I were able I would get lost In this park,

Overhead is madness, the dazzling laughter of the birds.

CITIES OF THE WORLD

Cities of the world, tell me a joke*

We are just another couple In the park*

Moonlight: softens the green face of the liberator's statue,

Sets jewels on rifles, tenements and blackbirds*

In the harbor- sharks are sleeping*

Dawn scatters seeds of hope into the bay*

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

YELLOW CRAB

1 imagined, "The sea Is a herd, of wild white horses

charging up the land*"
My wife said, "The ocean is an old man with TB,

always spitting."

A yellow crab crawled sideways out of his hole
And sat staring at us with big black shiney eyes*

CARGO

Over the high restless sea

A hungry call of love

Distrubs the passengers, every one of them pretending*

The sea is gray, windswept.

The ship sails from one port to another

With a cargo of ammunition.

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

FOR A FRIEND

From shackled rooms, ascending to the gray sky

A vapor of sighs_f tribute of uneasy defeats endured.

In dark cages bought or rented

Consuming the food of that own heart,

Rattling the bones of the wear]/ plant

Where hate is biting at the root»

Unceasingly waiting

To be destroyed by a wash of tenderness.

THE COMEDIAN

Life pinched and battered his halo into the hat of a comedian,
Kicked htm in the nuts so he could wobble when he walked.
And kissed him full on the lips*

It left a nasty taste₀

The phenomenon of autonomy

is uncommon
sometimes independence

is merely

SILENCE.

A RESTLESS BLUES

Some rainy day

gonna shut my eyes and cry

Some cold morning

gonna wet my feet and die

I'll go straight to Hell
I been a sinnin man

Loved a silly woman and a mean woman
and a dumb woman and a pretty woman.
Dear Lord, they're all the same

The rain fall hard straight down
Guess I'm gonna leave this town

Black the sky and bleak the weather

Let us now lie down together

In the garden of our hours
Iron rain makes rusted flowers

Kisses yielded for a kiss
Swiftly from the mind dismiss

Twisted lips can know no laughter
Broken"hearts know no hereafter

In the window of the sun

Privacy i s impossib1e *

And truth is molten in the crucible,

Burned and stirred by epileptic winds₀

A chaste mouth in spring is a fool's mouth_f

A sneer in spring. Is early dying*

Ah, there was a brave love once,
Traded for an earring₀

Robert Joseph Rosenberg

SEED

Locked in earth where the moon is gone

Brilliant secrets live and spawn

Profound unknown geography

Of fruitful, mystery,

Whirling immortal dust of the sun

In the cool black deep of the smiling one.

JACKALS

Jackals, I have never seen your faces

But I have often heard your savage crying

In the ominous splendor of evening.

Beyond the black and white desert afternoon*

I have seen your faint track in the gutted town

By the sea* Town on town unto antiquity₀

I AM TEMPTED

Hands folded over blank paper

Among beautiful reclim.ing enemies and lost lovers

Whose glamorous, dangerous laughter

In the Byzantine gloom of the functional room

Sings like a starry night in the jungle.

So distant stars seen swinging drunken

Through a wilderness of vine_#

Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	THE MAGDALENE

	Hair of blood a strand . Bottle- green leaf beneath small tender feet* £ycs upward pleading through the heat_vBeauty that^fs* learned honesty through love, tinder the agonising form of heart's majesty Nailed severely to crossed beams of wood* A tender, piteous look her reward ■ ■ lor all reformed fidelity to grace_f '■ . Grace for grace she yields • ■ Without severity, his mother beside her*	X


	Robert Joseph Rosenberg

	*""S*



	/ ■' " ■ -v" ' CMA1MTEU8E Lifting up-'a mother* a voice to a baby¹ a deafened ear, The thrilling lilt become maternal kiss* The perfect, tiny shell cradling a child's understanding Of pain and surgeon⁹s fine knife• While shei a little waitress* stunning in her gown* Sings deep hurt through the steely microphone_v Dark lined light eyes» ringlets_f mouth kiss to kiss* Gives goose flesh to her husbands and adntlrertiU

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



TOMORROW

■"A

Tomorrow is always the word? The work to fcfe done, the campaign, the finishing touch. Yet tomorrow may be cancelled, aborted, blotted out* Where do^s thi? leave us hanging

Out	o_x	mid~career_f

In love ot not/, off key, self •centered. Where do we go if there's no tomorrow?

- f			Robert Joseph Roaenberg

7V

*■A'¹*

\



	■■■■ TO THE TOWER It has come the breakfast hour I alone come to the tower Of unbelief and discontent, I do not have to pay the rent* I ascend in gilded elevator In the direction of the Creator. Peace, I have a little money in my purse, So bless the tower for lunch and do not curse. Time is moving forward like a hearse, Down the dreaming street into the sun, Moving like a skeleton* Down corridors as if in dreams I greet the lawyers in their schemes₀ Well might I have been one of these If 1 had not caught a rare disease. So I go on. from da}/ to day But half awake and half in play* Tbe ugly duck became the swan Because someone struck him on the crown. But Beatrice in an evening gown Could express all this in a frown. Robert: Joseph Rosenberg



	THE BLIND MAN WITH THE WHITE BULL PUP The blind man with the white bull pup Walked rapidly away from, the bus, half dragging his dog over the new fallen snow As if some quiet joy transformed his darkness of sense₀He had told us he was going away to California* "His beauty hurt me so,¹¹ the girl said a And who is the one in the new boots? "Caruso was the greatest¹* he said₀ Mentioning casually Lanza and McCormick* He was a singer* Ke had sung Silent Night for $300• Now he had a girl pregnant in Milwaukee, Whom he did not care for, whom he could hardly abide and he held just taken his blood test* He did not want to go to jail, "Fame wears out like a shoe," he told me* He spoke of show business, of strippers and comedians And success and travel, to the Derby, to Minnd Beach and Reno, Fie had been in the business since as a boy he had lost his father. He didn't like the police in this town* He had run away from a jaywalking ticket and been held on suspicion Because he did not want to pay the $2 fine* He tried to sell me an imported gold. Swiss movement watch for $10« Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	/v-

	TIBERIUS Upon the leonine hills overlooking Galilee The buildings crouch like little cats* Before the quay's old stones Across from Jordan's bones, Before the ruined mosque, the fishing boats, I hear the chorus of a thousand throats« "Home of Michigan Auto Parts, Ann Arbor"_f Signs of the times here in the harbor* We seek a lodging_f a Hasid is the clerk, He makes his duty a religious work. He knows I've eaten pork. There is no room under the hooked sky* Perhaps I will wake up today, Rabonim in damp foggy fur Gesticulate? as in a fable, Suddenly we¹re at the ponderous oaken door, Imagination sees a baby on the table. The scene is lit by febrile candles wild That bow before the innocent little child.

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	SNOW Snow falls swiftly, starlets of pearly white, Fall swiftly from, veiled heaven's gray light a Each crystal a divine geometry, Kaliedescopic minstrelsy! The earth sleeps after rut and heavy is its rest. The road is frozen on the steep hill's breast.

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	SORROW IN THE MORNING Sorrow in the morning, in mourning for love, 'Why are the birds silent? Why do the flowers droop And the trees seem, dead and stark© It is because you are so far away* Distance and years separate us. We have so little and so much to say₀ A kiss will make all well.

	I have played awa}^ my young years* In sorrow I wait for you*

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	A REMEMBRANCE Ah, someone has pressed roseleaves into the moon This rnoonswept night , a single star shines above* My herald# I do not know where you have gone Or why you have been so long, my love, WINE See, my beloved, I am become a vine. My heart is a tough, dry vine Where songs will blossom like black grapes To make you wine* WINTER Silently the hoarfrost came Decorating branch and limb. Lovely winter is a dame And shc$ our sorrow plumbs, SEA FOG So pass Scylla and Charybdis In the morning mist - Sea fog - after your kiss, So pass Scylla and Charybdis.

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	OH, GUN Oh, gun you need a youth to kill Before of life he's drunk his fill And then when you've grown hot Wi th 1 us t, you need a res t And know a knot Is tied, untied within a woman's breast, TO GILDA The angels put out their lanterns© There is a rainbow round the moon. Would you like to go to Algiers with me And keep a pet Bar bar}/ ape, Or sail the coast, of China in monsoon? SHARD A fruit tree reminds me of fair Jean Who keeps her dancing feet so clean* In politics she is a rogue! I think dear Jean may have the fugue• And Freda of the laughing mouth, When, she is sad there is a drouth«

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	. THEY HEALETH ME Tears runneth clown as salt as sea, They healeth me₀ And little children In their glee And lovers walking on the lea* They healeth me. Down my cheeks the teardrops course For things have gone from bad to worse Until I sought relief in verse And over all from ancient scores A Heavenly music pours. It healeth me, THE BLUEJAyS SONG A bluejay perched on a hollow tree. It was his will to sing to me This bleak November melody* •'Fickle is woman, fickle Is fame, There is no hell like a bad name.¹* I thanked him for his little lay. He cocked his head and flew away.

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	TO A PEACOCK Peacock on the gorgeous lawn Yawn and sing a peacock^fs song. It is time for neighboring So j our n.i ng i n the s pri ng • Woodcock and hen Have just begun Their nature^f s duty₀ How blissful and how game the land Where there's no tax on beauty*

	THE FOUNTAIN The fountain tossed its crystal mane And. scattered drops of dewy rain a Admired, by all the piebald crowd It tossed its noble head and bowed. How bright the sun within its waters! How admirable the fountain's daughters That pass the flood of civic fame And leave me rest without a name*

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	NINA ■ You are named, for ship I respect« Your sides are like a caravel© Beyond, the burning village, the bloodsoaked sickle moon, Westward seek Indies of spices, of quaint beasts. Your cross emblazoned sails belly out Westward? to hail a Queen*

	CHURCH BELLS 'Who can hear the church bells Away beyond the church woods ? They say the Angelus And ring away our evil moods. Church bells affright demons, who lurk Where children play and men must work_c Who hearing them would not stop and pray Upon a merry summer's day?

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	OUR LADY OF THE ROSE GARDEN The brilliant birds sing among red roses. A single butterfly hovers for their nectar* In scarlet seated Our Lady demurely holds a handkerchief, Seated sweetly in contemplation* Angles are secret beings, present though now unseen₀They beat the air with melodious wings* All has been accomplished. Crowned by her Son for eternity, It is an eternity of repose* Queen, of Heaven have compassion on me.

	TO ST. ANTHONY Saint of the simple, saint of the poor, She is but a lovely, foolish whore, Reach her as you reached the fishes, Inform her of the greatest riches And this poor girl to Jesus lead For as we in the Bible read He said, let him first throw the stone Who has no sin that is his own*

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	THE CHERRY Wee bird on the sill of spring To every heart that yet can sing Br ing gl ad. t idings i The cherry tree Is hung with silver. Tis April and the sun and rain Have waked the sleeping earth again* The verdant grasses do appear_fIt Is the best time of the year. The cherry now Is hung with silver* From every bough the buds are bursting Forth sweetly to set me thirsting For merry love₀ Behold, the cherry tree*

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	CROWS Crows Athwart the sky Riding air currents Black as lampblack With a sheen Of blackness• They spread their fingered capes And measure the country roundabout Seeking seeds and grubs To feed their downy young* They caw eternally Of death and desolation And the prophet's worth* Their race Is shot at But respected.

	Robert .Joseph Rosenberg



	DESPAIR OF THE SLEEVE Despair of the sleeve, who left his glove. It was a breeze that whispered, love* Whose leathern sleeve promised reward. It was made where music was scored* Whose buckle glittered like a sword© Who opened the door, it was the Word.

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	HONEYMOON In the less expensive afternoon, in my dazzling bloodshoes The little boy shined with his friendly, crafty soul, Sauntering past barbershops, pornography, poolhalls in c omp1et e v1rtue₉ Easily amused by a cur sleeping on the hot sidewalk, A little trolley jingling through the trees, Stray eyes and. distant buttocks_f the arrogance of autohorns In competative railery, agnostic worship of speed and power, Voices like rain, avoiding the vendors of flowers and luck, The pimps, hacks and guides, Casually alarmed by a gaunt, rotting specter folded in her shawl, Feet in a bag, head in a sack, Sipping a daquiri, listening to the hot chatter of marracas, The melancholy thump of guitar, gay harmonicas, In a mambo requested by a visiting British lady also sipping a daquiri, Whose ceaseless monologue is infrequently interrupted by a sip. This lady who speaks of her previously vegetable existence to her Fruity friend, marraca salesmen, castanet salesmen stalk me, Flower peddlers assault my wife* with gardenias, with wilted red bouquets For her black hair* smiling with warm eyes, counting the amazing coins, Clutching the exact, cool circles in their dirty hands That are tamales, rice and beer and a cigaret for the fall of the night.



	HONEYMOON (cont.) Red eyes wink in the sky. Little black boys on one rollerskate apiece Fly down the crowded Prado, skidding among the promenaders and ourselves With one long call of pride and defiance« Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	THERE WAS A GARDEN There was a garden gone to ruin The weeds stood, up rank high And flowers yet: they blossomed there Each year to born and die₀

	And the}^ were beautiful, and strange More fairer than the tame, And my old love for you, my love, It blooms for you the same. You left me for another one I do not know his name But my sick heart Is singing still And my flowers burn like flame₀

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	DEPARTURE The Ice breaking in the river is birds singing* The grays and blues are birds wings enfolding* The bright grass out of the earth is rich in unborn young» Running away was done. There was only a strain of bitter and a stain of sour- Left to me* Sails were* The racing seas and the gulls of morning were* The high clarion seas where the river ran* The river between and under cities of smoke, Where cInders wh ir1ed 11ke hawks, The river between groves and willows, brushing the water with long, feathery, silver leaves» The seci was burning cold and alive with fish racing their currents. Cold and alive* And over the seas swayed the sun and moon* Distance was changed to time. Time was nights and days. Distance became life and space, with the simplicity of a good dream_c The trials of storm. were« And the raging maniac seas pouring And towering storm against the walls of ships, the fragile walls of life. Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	TO GAIL, YOUR PICTURE Look out the window at the moving trees And know I cherish these to bloom for thee. Know too, that In the silence of my cell You are the honey that I eat in Hell. See_f my beloved, 1 am become a vine. My heart Is a tough, dry vine Where songs will blossom like black grapes To make you wine₀ TO GAIL My days have all died on the spears of your eyes_fBright with the drug of their knowing. You have cut me down to a smealier size While I was growing„ Now I am free as the wind or the sea, With only my thoughts to care for me, With only my heart to comfort me. The strangled vision leaves a bloodtrail over the ceiling, The magic bird flits through the open window, Now the curtains flop in the timeless wind*

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	Spring has faded like a gtrl Blossomed as a woman And love is hiding in the trees In and out of season«

	Angles sing in golden rings A song to times beginning* Angels dance in sweet blue rings In twilight and the eveninga Softly, love. The rained darkness summons The shattered sword to battle And the stifled, lark to sing, Anywhere anytime♦

	A poem can grow In the heart of snow But not in the eyes of fear* A song can bloom In a prison room And leap away like a deer, And travel as far as art May go or hope can dance In the sinews of the heart.

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	The Encyclopedia Salesman \s Lament I am walking up streets dressed for summer. Cracked glass in my shoe. The imitation pigskin samplecase Is as heavy as my heart Because I am without you. My darling of the Office of Fiscal Affairs, Department of War, Typing requisitions and balances, Secret, Top Secret, When shall I see you and take you in my arms. If I were able I would get lost In this park, Overhead is madness, the dazzling laughter of the birds.

	CITIES OF THE WORLD Cities of the world, tell me a joke* We are just another couple In the park* Moonlight: softens the green face of the liberator's statue, Sets jewels on rifles, tenements and blackbirds* In the harbor- sharks are sleeping* Dawn scatters seeds of hope into the bay* Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	YELLOW CRAB 1 imagined, "The sea Is a herd, of wild white horses charging up *the land" My wife said, "The ocean is an old man with TB, always spitting." A yellow crab crawled sideways out of his hole And sat staring at us with big black shiney** eyes* CARGO Over the high restless sea A hungry call of love Distrubs the passengers, every one of them pretending* The sea is gray, windswept. The ship sails from one port to another With a cargo of ammunition.

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	FOR A FRIEND From shackled rooms, ascending to the gray sky A vapor of sighs_f tribute of uneasy defeats endured. In dark cages bought or rented Consuming the food of that own heart, Rattling the bones of the wear]/ plant Where hate is biting at the root» Unceasingly waiting To be destroyed by a wash of tenderness. THE COMEDIAN Life pinched and battered his halo into the hat of a comedian, Kicked htm in the nuts so he could wobble when he walked. And kissed him full on the lips* It left a nasty taste₀ The phenomenon of autonomy is uncommon sometimes independence is merely SILENCE.



	A RESTLESS BLUES Some rainy day gonna shut my eyes and cry Some cold morning gonna wet my feet and die I'll go straight to Hell I been a sinnin man Loved a silly woman and a mean woman and a dumb woman and a pretty woman. Dear Lord, they're all the same The rain fall hard straight down Guess I'm gonna leave this town



	Black the sky and bleak the weather Let us now lie down together In the garden of our hours Iron rain makes rusted flowers Kisses yielded for a kiss Swiftly from the mind dismiss Twisted lips can know no laughter Broken"hearts know no hereafter

	In the window of the sun Privacy i s impossib1e * And truth is molten in the crucible, Burned and stirred by epileptic winds₀ A chaste mouth in spring is a fool's mouth_f A sneer in spring. Is early dying* Ah, there was a brave love once, Traded for an earring₀

	Robert Joseph Rosenberg



	SEED Locked in earth where the moon is gone Brilliant secrets live and spawn Profound unknown geography Of fruitful, mystery, Whirling immortal dust of the sun In the cool black deep of the smiling one. JACKALS Jackals, I have never seen your faces But I have often heard your savage crying In the ominous splendor of evening. Beyond the black and white desert afternoon* I have seen your faint track in the gutted town By the sea* Town on town unto antiquity₀ I AM TEMPTED Hands folded over blank paper Among beautiful reclim.ing enemies and lost lovers Whose glamorous, dangerous laughter In the Byzantine gloom of the functional room Sings like a starry night in the jungle. So distant stars seen swinging drunken Through a wilderness of vine_# Robert Joseph Rosenberg