'Romeo, Oh, Romeo.' And Other Poems by David Yancey

Romeo, Oh, Romeo.

There was a man in the garden that night
he watched a boy confess of a love
to a girl who did not know what she had
in a boy so beautiful and true.

Men are envious creatures by nature;
women are fickle by blood.
This man who watched in the garden
could not properly said to be either of them.

He made a plan to win a love
from a boy who did not know what he had
in the way of choices for a lover.
Like the old bard said, ladies protest too much.

A poison, and a cure for such
a priest, an alchemist, and the rest of us
all entangled in this net for a tragedy
so eloquent it hurts (doesn't it?)

So, this man in the garden that night
went to the boy to catch him in his noose
and save the world from this
a story for a play, I know is not true.

In the end they went to Rome,
this is Shakespeare after all,
and the boys knew
true love.

All Hope, and Ides, for you, dear Caesar.

You who strangers have called out to
to abandon all hope on these ides
where birth traverses the strange invibile
this universe built of ether wearing souls
with high as hell hippies looking for a fix
for whatever god broke so eloquently
within us they find another excuse
for escaping things they failed to understand

Fold up my love and disappear this is it
the start of all the uncertainty I've expressed
lie low I think upon the ground hades found
a cavern so deep you will not escape
though you climb for a thousand years
a torch has been lit, held up at the door
a million years away for us without wings
but, angels we are becoming for once

And that, I think, may be good enough for now.

Of Salted Tears and Fields

they strange breakers
they bone takers
in yards of graves
they be the fakers
of salted tears
shed enough here
there will be no grass
poor peloponsia
where your pachyderms failed
when sent to virigils hall
you king was left
without a throne
and they forgot
his head on the ground
they strange lovers
they strange brothers
who be lovers
of demon gods
you fury was held
in check among
bones of graves
not very sacred
those salted tears
among the salted fields
who died first
or luckiest
the soldiers
or the ones who fell
with hunger in the belly
they strange breakers
they bone takers
they be the sowers
of salted fields

Poe at Tree

Dear Love,
who sat with
Poe at Tree
there shall be
no farewell
departed
from these lips.
You who taught
of the birds
under the trees
(they did not
"Caw, Caw, Caw!")
they whispered
an eery tune;
foreshadowed
the strange times
yet to come.

And where was I?
among those
dusty books
in a Library
they gave us
up for dead.

I feel like God.
Now that you
have been here
what do they
have for me?

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