A King, Humbled in Death

An older poem I had not uploaded.

A King, Humbled in Death.

A poem by David Vincent Cortez

In this, my portend wayward hours,

When stillness soon take root,

Will fasten in beleaguered mind

And soon to bear dark fruit.

Play on! Play On!

Encore! Encore!

Too soon the curtains close,

“I have not yet chanced the empty halls

where might my children grow!

Nor danced among the lovely trees

And carved such marks, my name.

Nor,

Sung the tune that beats my heart like

Wild fervid flame.”

What word is this that leaves me dumb,

And flirts my wanting tongue?

It leaves me quiet as a grave

Where mothers,

weep,

for babes.

If not for pen and thirsty page,

the means to my reprise,

I could not say of what I feel

With words befit a king.

“Oh Lord, what game do you create,

To see the Lily bloom,

If just to see it whither low

And cower in its doom?

Have not we gained your confidence

In ours, our sacrifice?

To play your game of charlatans

as

recumbent men and mice?

Have I still time, then words as well,

To vex your welcome gate.

Not still, I go but remain at fight,

The buzzards too shall wait.

Each breath be mine until my last

Not robbed of that, will I.

My lips may move to only gasps

yet

on pages, I shall cry:

Play on! Play on!

I am yet lost,

my pen my mighty sword!

Encore! Encore!

Not curtains yet!

With you, at odds, my Lord.

(In dark, a light.)

What light is this that finds me, chilled,

And thaws my frozen veins?

What moves this brittle skeleton

Upwards with veiled strings?

Such luminance as cresting beams

Of sun

That pierced the sky,

and fills my former wistful eyes

with verve revivified?

Enraptured awe of marvels thrust

Into mine waking mind.

In audience of infinity,

Before me, all of time.

If one reached out, could touch a star,

no,

single. point. of light.

I realize no human eyes were built

To witness such a sight.

Enthused by curiosity,

I reach to touch the flare,

but

upon such fragile trifled brush,

the light bloomed everywhere.

What fool am I, ‘twas no star

That I mistook at first,

My feeble mind could not conceive

the birth of universe.

Then funneled down in reverie,

Like rivers, star-lit dreams,

I pass into another place,

a,

second life redeemed.

Play on! Play on!

Encore! Encore!

We go around once more.