Collected Poems of John Holmes
Holmes, John A., Jr.
2002
Ladies and gentlemen ...
Ladies and gentlemen ...
I wish to speak to you tonight of not what I'll say. Think Love; place; childhood. But that play on chords of words, That shaping of leafmass in wind, that gathering thought, That slow many-minded tower up which a lecturer climbs, Making words mean to his listeners what words ought And sure in his own seeking memory build, build, and be. | |
He shakes the large pattern like a flag in upper light. First the parts show - stars in a barred field; diagonal Blue; gold shield. Then the thought blows whole an bright, And a kind of cheering comes in the intent eyes all toward Him as he goes on abed, and in his heart a kind of power. A word seeded. Words were the green stalk his roots reached Down for, up branch to leaf, and now this bannering flower, This truth, his tower, a tree the liveliest boy climbs into And from high bent hard-blown branches, with a great shout Claims a new country beyond the hill. | |
And all clamber down Clumsily, brush themselves, and wonder at him, and walk about, They wander off. He grinds the gravel. Now he is alone. He never knew all, that furthest country over the border. Where are they now, how do they think a about geography, Grounded, and trying to set their minds and his in order? | |