“G” is for The “Green Man”

With this blog, I would like to introduce you to another of Russ Kelly’s poems, the Green Man. The green man is a mythological being, prevalent in the British Isles, who represents nature. Very often, in Pagan rites, he is represented by a young man completely adorned in greenery, as Russ has described below in his poem. The theme of the green man has been used repeatedly in architecture and other types of art forms, as well as literature through the ages. And now, I present to you the Green Man, by Russ Kelly.                                        

 THE GREEN MAN

Down by the sea, the thundering sea

where the river is flowing, its waters to end,

there stands an oak, a venerable tree

with branches that drop to the water and send

its leaves to the ocean, and leaves to the wind.

 

A leaf in the wind. Its memory brings

The wicker and mistletoe back to the tree-

A golden sickle, a man who sings

A prayer to the gods, a bright panoply

To flames that are burning, and burning below.

 

And above is the Green Man,

and below is the Green Man,

all round is the Green Man,

laughing, and dancing…

 

Dance by the tree, the Maypole Tree,

dance with the Green Man, a circle to make,

on Midsummer’s Night, or All Hallows Eve,

dance in the forests and valleys and take

the Man by his arm, the branch by its leaves…

 

And the branch is the Green Man,

and the oak is the Green Man,

all round is the Green Man,

laughing, and dancing…

© 2014 by Mary Purpari and Russ Kelly

“D” is for the “Dream”

Today’s letter, D, is brought to you by my dearest friend, Russ Kelly R.I.P. He was a talented poet, and had planned on publishing his poems, accompanied by paintings done by another dear friend, but unfortunately his dream was thwarted by his untimely death. I would like to share this poem with you, in his honor, because I’d like for him to receive the recognition he deserves. He wrote this poem in 1971, when he was just 22 years old.

The Dream

I had a dream the other night

and dreamt of many things

I wenched with mighty emperors

and supped with splendored kings

and soared across the universe

with wide ensorcered eyes

to touch pulsating fabrics

of many fabled skies.

 

I flew on mythic Hippogryphs

across the galaxy

and soared through skies as yet unknown

with my eyes to see

the building of the Pyramids

and found Mycenaean Greece

and sailed with mighty Jason

as he sought the Golden Fleece.

 

I slew the Nemeian Lion

and Medusa of serpent hair

and sought out ancient Babylon

with hanging gardens fair.

I journeyed on with Prestor John

Searched for all that’s dead and gone

Mystic flower, ancient tower

all these things were in my power

but all these wondrous sights to see

meant but little else to me.

 

I went down deeper in my dreams

to find the magic key

that would unlock the deepest door

and solve this mystery

this mystery of longing and of turning

and of tears

and of learning and of burning

and of fears…

 

But lo! And then I found it

the key into the door

beyond whose portals I would find

what I’d been searching for

 

I found the hidden temple

the entrance in the floor

went down many flights of steps

that led me to the door.

 

I put the key into the lock

it opened, and I found

(the writing on the wall told me

wither I was bound).

 

For I stood in the hall of the Gods of Dream

and saw before my eyes

the great, inspiring Asawot

the god of seas, and skies…

 

“Come hither:, he boomed,”Unbidden guest”

“You are at the ending of your quest”.

 

I told him of my longing

and in answer to my dreams

he looked at me and smiled and said:

“Strange though it seems

you are a godlike mortal

to have surmounted slumber’s peaks

to the Golden Castle of the Gods

that no sane mortal seeks

 

you ask me of fulfillment

and in answer to your plea

I say, be gone! Oh, foolish one

that would ask such things of me

 

For I am great and mighty

and not of such maudlin cast

that I would give you answers

to such questions that you ask

 

Be gone! And find your answers

by the light of breaking day

search not in dreams

but while you wake

it is the better way”.

 

And Asawot boomed at me

“That is all I have to say”!

 

But as I turned and ran in panic

Quickly from the room

I heard him sigh,

and touch the sky

heard him softly boom:

 

“For immortal being I may be

There are other Gods than me

The greatest is reality…”

 

©2014 Mary Purpari and Russ Kelly

Smoky Waters—A poem

Today, I would like to present a guest on my blog. Russ Kelly is my third favorite poet, after Walt Whitman and William Butler Yeats, and he has kindly given me permission to share his latest poem with all of you. I hope you enjoy it as much as I.

Water that smokes

Falls of spring

Falls of power

Falls of silk

Falls of Paterson.

Wheels turning

Wheels of power

Wheels of rail

Turning turning

Wheels in time.

Bricks of muscle

Bricks of sweat

Bricks of clay

Bricks to build

Looms of history.

Water to smoke

Falls to wheel