Friday, July 31, 2015

Lady of the Shades KB Lamb 1976

Christmas coming down on me
I hope it comes around for you,
I just heard the other day
What you chose to do.

    Silent night, the lights went out
    You pulled the switch yourself.
    Of all the ways, saddest one
    And you didn't even call.
    Don't you know you could have care
    You could have shed your pain
    Was that not always clear enough?
    Oh God, don't let it happen again.

And we were the best of friends
And I never let it go.

Lying at my feet the city
All around me begs for light
Long the war and hard the battle
But our bugles sang all night.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Preparation by K.B.Lamb 1976

I never was a tourist; in New York
I walked the streets at night and thought of work
And rode the subway train and bought a pipe
And found it like my home town, only bigger.
The movies get there first, I caught a Western,
And found the women fat and safe from me.
The dirt upon the streets and racing taxis
Make all the cities very much the same;
In Ottawa, in fact, our cab was faster.
But I was glad I went, I got panhandled;
The upper state was pastoral at night;
Returning in the dawn along the Delaware
Made me Ulysses rowing it for home.

My history of New York help make respected
My visions in Alexis Creek, told later.

The files are full, the magnitude of art
That's mine weighs golden on my striving soul,
The pen's at work and typewriter keys are poised
And projects loom like the mountains to be won;
And all the world shall know my ringing truth
Shall feel the victory of my years of toil.

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

A Poem for Judas (and me) 1976

When will Judas die?
Why is he always near,
So slick, and sharp, and clever
Catching every ear?
So pleasing to the eye
So reassuring in his strength,
So quick with solid answers,
So free to speak at length?

Today he leads the Reds
Tomorrow it's the Whites
Every side of mortals questions
Finds him in the right
He's never at a loss
He's a leader with aplomb
He moves the masses tranquilly,
They always find him strong.

Judas is the golden man
He's the head of every class
I think he ran for Cambridge
And I know he wasn't last
Judas is a raconteur
And when the need appears
He writes poetry for causes
And moves us all to tears.

He's never even faltered
He knows the virtues off by heart
And he's so good at imitation
That it gives you quite a start
To realize that in all his life
He's not been at a loss
Except when Someone asked him
To bear, and love, his cross.