To Yu-Tsan

Yu-Tsan, loveliest of jades
or water lilies,
lilies of the field, lilies of the fern
lily of the valleys
 
how can I ever believe
that you, heart of my heart
lily of all lilies, cost as little as
any other tart?
 
(George Barker)

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From Anno Domini

at a time of bankers
to exercise a little charity;
at a time of soldiers
to cultivate small gardens;
at a time of categorical imperatives
to guess about clouds;
at a time of politicians
to trust only to children and demigods.
And from those who occupy seats of power
to turn, today, away
without incurring permanent reprisals.
When the instruments of torture
are paraded in public places
permit [...]

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Villa Stellar XIII

And there in the May Borghese Gardens with a foam of
blossoming flowers around us we sat at a small table
she with a hat like a huge waterlily and a glass of iced
lemonade sweating in sunshine and the Roman sky like the
interior of an enormous pearl, and semi-precious lizards scooting
among the hibiscus. I said: ‘It is [...]

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In Memory of David Archer XX

Mother O Mother, what is that star
Like a nail in the sky?
My little babe, it is only the candle
I see you by.
 
Mother O Mother, what is this wound
I feel here at my side?
My little babe, it is only the straw
You lie beside.
 
Mother O Mother, what is the thorn
I feel here at my brow?
My little babe, [...]

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In Memory of David Archer IV

The life I shed upon the ground
looks up at me, looks up at me
and in its scarlet lake I see
my face of yesterday lying drowned
and smiling as in sleep it seems
cradled among rocks and dreams
of what will never be.
 
Early in the dawns of May
under the Medusa tree
I shall stand and you will see
my transfigured head [...]

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In Memory of David Archer: 1

To lift a hand
to those who have gone before us
those friends and
oddfellows to whom
only death can restore us
(I have heard
as in day dreams
them calling sometimes for us
out of a silence that seems
like a dead chorus)
to lift a hand in farewell
for them at the black bell
neither you David nor I
found this a hard thing to [...]

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from The True Confession of George Barker

I sent a letter to my love
In an envelope of stone,
And in between the letters ran
A crying torrent that began
To grow till it was bigger than
Nyanza or the heart of man.
I sent a letter to my love
In an envelope of stone.
 
 I sent a present to my love
In a black bordered box.
A clock that beats a [...]

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