just cry my love...
let the world recognize
that, that a vein is damaged;
and ‘cause of socialization principles
you threw self at agape
without hesitation and in ignorance
not knowing that there is a price for err,
and a scar fashioned forgiveness.

Cry my love
let the world teach
today's separation lesson
to him who knows not the truth of love,
and to him who has failed to
grasp the woes of others
for the puppet of a son
has smitten thee like an angry hungry bull
making the simple boisterous, and the boisterous fatal
but this new curse cause of readmission and
forgiveness shall fall you like an axe.

Cry my love
let not a freshly cut rose
from the garden of a King
charm thee on the morrow
saying yesterday scars are for yesterday
for the marks are many, and
have not withered with the perfume of roses
they hold in innocence
and have slipped through the cracks
of pure forgiveness
mowing away with a vengeance at

Cry my love!

by Paul Andrew Bourne

Comments (1)

What a gripping, challenging poem; what a triumph of meaningfulness. Ammons plays in a minor key, but his motifs are recurrent and his chords satisfying and simple. What his persona is looking for will be found 'partial and entire, ' it will be found far beyond the earth around us and deep within the world within us, outside and inside of what we see; he must go far and stay here. The culminating image is the sweetgum tree in spring: its 'far resolutions' and its 'separate leaves'; its sap and its bark. What it brings together are the 'empty stark' of infinity and the 'chemical reactions' and visible 'traces' of the here and now. Only the two opposites taken as one can ultimately satisfy our humanness. We simply can't be fulfilled by one or the other. We love the sweetgum because it's so familiar and sensible and clear to us and because, at the same time, it lifts us to the highest level of our imagination, it sweeps to the farthest reaches of (okay, let's be explicit here) spirituality. His poems are simple - but demanding. One ask simple questions and accept simple answers. But most of us must keep a dictionary handy (I suspect he enjoys using words hat are new, even to him, expecting them to do his bidding, and expecting us to enjoy their obscurity, rendering it translucent) . And must of us must read and reread his lines, decoding every one of our own satisfaction. So I begin this one (and, as it turns out, end up) asking two simple questions: who is the 'I' of the poem and who is the 'you'? Both anwers, I think, permit opposites - maybe even require opposites (the far and near, if you will; the insider and outside, the here and there) . For me, the 'I' is the poet himself, or the persona of a poet, or ultimately seeking a meaning/a message to share with others. And, for me, the 'you' is that meaning or message, the poem itself, or poetry in general, or all 'sense' in both 'senses' of that word: meaningful ideas and sense perceptions, the physical and the metaphysical, rational satisfaction and emotional pleasure.