Oh, weariness, thy Friday's trudge at hand,
Waging against the workings of my head;
Your aged rages 'gainst me must not stand.
I'll beat thee soon, but first I must to bed.
© Jack Blackburn, 18th January 2013
Friday, January 18, 2013
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Mount Caburn
And see as far as eye can see
For haze does bar my vision’s wanted way
For haze does bar my vision’s wanted way
So limiting this grand infinity.
For what I see defies the scope of men:
All sky, all blue, all heights, all earth, all green.
This vista, inspiration to my pen,
Calls forth the life of things unseen.
Dig into the verdant earth.
Exhume the history below.
We stand on memories of utter worth,
On what is lost that we do
wish to know.
© Jack Blackburn 12th January 2013
New Sonnet
I
This glorious sunrise is our reward,
Coldly blazing across Jan’ry sky.
Its light pierces as t’were a silver sword
But, in reflection, cheers and warms the eye.
The canopy above is burnt from grey
Red flames awake and colour the morning.
The heart is quicken’d by this break of day
Both tremulous and stirred by its dawning.
Come the end, when sun and fire diminish,
We sigh, and bid the ember’d orb farewell;
For, out of light, our hopes travails must finish
And in out rest their burg’ning bloom must dwell.
But new days sparked under that greatest fire
Rekindle us so that we ne’er may tire.
Coldly blazing across Jan’ry sky.
Its light pierces as t’were a silver sword
But, in reflection, cheers and warms the eye.
The canopy above is burnt from grey
Red flames awake and colour the morning.
The heart is quicken’d by this break of day
Both tremulous and stirred by its dawning.
Come the end, when sun and fire diminish,
We sigh, and bid the ember’d orb farewell;
For, out of light, our hopes travails must finish
And in out rest their burg’ning bloom must dwell.
But new days sparked under that greatest fire
Rekindle us so that we ne’er may tire.
© Jack Blackburn, 12th January 2013
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Upon the Bow
A breath of
wind on the air,
Caressing canvas
and cooling sun.
Beautiful
peace, tremulous on the edge of the horizon.
That light
of total, unmarked clarity.
A young man’s
eyes, piercing blue mirrors of the sky,
Gaze upon a
beautiful nothing –
A nothing
that holds everything in its emptiness.
For one day
he shall see the clear void break.
And before
that, all that is still and rhythmic
Will change
and, in torrent and gale and thunder,
Youth will
discover itself anew,
In fear and
fascination; in sadness and serenity.
Even in that
manchild there –
Whose goal
is an undiscovered fear –
Even with
eyes fixed on the horizon,
He silently says “Don’t look back”.
©
Jack Blackburn, 2nd January 2013
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