Herald von Stroup

Unsung

What is this song I hear
without notes or words?
Without voices, choruses, chords
rhythm, rhyme or time?
A distant or different
drummer?
A magic flute or lute
that lures me here to sit
beside this flowing stream
beneath this flowing tree?
What is this song
heard before my "birth"
--certainly after death--
that I was born to sing?
Love.
Only,
Simply; unspeakable, unsung
unconditionaLove

 

Love Poet

Never ever marry a
realove poet;
better a gambler, drunkard, dopefiend
or a thief!
Because the poet
is all of these & so much more:
he will gamble his life--& yours--
on a gossamer vision;
he will drink ambrosia from another
poet flapping his lips
or from thin air
and get so high you
can never reach him.
He absorbs drugs from the atmosphere of
love, loafing, laughing, getting drunk and over it,
the curve of the lip & hip of the universe,
a sunset, clouds,
at dawn, at midnite and 4 am.
He will steal your heart & your mind & your body
then give it all away 2 a friend
in 1 ecstatic moment
of nonIrelativity.


The Poems