ENTANGLING ALLIANCES

                              AND OTHER KNOTTY AFFAIRS

                 

 

 

Selected poems of  L. F. Barry Barrington,

                                    read by the author on Poetry Evening*,

                        21st February 2005, for the Chicago Literary Club

 

                         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*) Poetry Evening presenters also included three others, viz.,

Kenneth Clarke, Richard Fammeree and Hugh Schwartzberg

 

                        You and the Calm and the River

 

     Hurled off the sandstorm’s hooves,

          Savage winds snarl at the river bank,

              Then leap and gnaw away at shallows,

                        leaving sandbars.

     When You appear,

          Winds settle to a gentle breeze,

              Whispering your name

                   And sighing at the marvel of your beauty.

     With your touch,

          The wind goes quietly to work –

              Double duty –

          In the silence of the dancing air,

                        Above the Ninnescah.

                             - 3:10 a.m., CST, 14th May 1994

 

                   **************

 

 

 

 

 

          Events at our Local-Color-ful Wedding Chapel

 

   We see them in their satin gowns and handsome formal suits;

          We hear their songs of plighted troth,

                   accompanied by flutes;

          Then, we know this place is rare,

                   to give witness to such sights;

     We want to share that blessing –

                   Such a spirit it ignites!

 

                             - 19th September 1999

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DIS-ENTANGLEMENT OF A 1963 DOMESTIC ALLIANCE

   At last!

      DEAR HUSBAND PRESIDENT:

              We have found a place to chat. . .

                   Let me hold You with my breath,

                        In this rare meeting on the stairs,

                             To give You proper notice;

          You, who change more beds

          Than Holiday Inn’s Maid of the Month:

Prepare for Greater Change!

       Scandals mount on the walls

              of the White House Ladies’ lounges. . .

     Dear Jack, Take heed, if You adventure;

          If your health and wealth abide;

          If You prospect for life’s delight –

              You missed it!

           You park in hidden places where wit cannot reside.

 How could You see it – parking in the dark?

     Oh, Yes: Marilyn has wider hips,

                             >>>> Perhaps,

           But I could match her bouffant lips!

     When we did lie, Just You and I –

               My hand came forward every night,

                        For just the proper touch;

          I did once like the Senator from Hyannisport;

                         You must know: I liked him very much,

              Recklessness included,

              Before he took the role of Woman’s Home Companion.

                         First Lady, Yes!

              But, how long is the line of ‘Ladies’ ?

                           I doubt that those others would,

     Like me,  love You as often as You breathe;

          You say I did not so: ‘Au contraire’?

                   Oh, yes, I did object, on Inauguration Eve,

When our wild romp tore loose my new coiffure –

          It had taken half a day! 

     I wished to show a royal head for You,  in my soft pride.

           Last year,

 The White House staff knew something big was brewing with Cuba,

                                   and I –   well I –

                                      Nearby,

             I heard the overtones of bedroom body battles...

                        And You, Mi Presidente,

                                You barked one order,

                                 One short order:

                                  ‘ Venga Ya  Castro Mia...’

          ------ >Fidel’s sister! 

       You never cut your flow of testosterone,   Do You, Jack?

   It is evident to all,

       You are into peccadillos in a truly serious way.

               I’m curious: In that quiet White House darkness,

                   What could a woman use for bait that You’d risk so much

             To tend her itch? 

          I wonder that You have sufficient time to scratch,

                             You Cape Cod Son-of-a-Bitch!

          Great Man, Jack of All Maids,

              You live, absent sharing,

                   Never murmuring sweet phrases,

                   Never courting, as I hear some husbands do,

                        To nurture or seduce with equal joy...  Not You!

          You seem to spend nights simply occupying territory

              In the shape of a wild, uncaring, Irish raparee!.

       OK, Raider.  I know You’re late; your cabinet awaits...

        I shall walk You to that door with this remark:

          Prepare for change.

  As You lay out this trip – Dallas and all that –

  Make plans for our dear children;

     And provide a walled-in space for me;

       Leaving, we’ll reserve a romper room

 for all your playmates  – your pretty PeckerDillies...

          I would have left the children, Jack,

          But I do fear they’d be mere cogs

     In your deceptions, cruelly dispatched.

     However, if You want, and if Caroline agrees,

       Help her blow out her six candles:

     Her birthday, Wednesday next.

                 I shall be  packing for our big trip to Dallas;

     Of course!  I’ll come along,

     And I could try to sing an Irish song;

      ‘Mother Macree’ could join us;

     and will they ‘gather pikes at midnight’?

                      Did Molly Bloom say ‘YesoYesoYesoYes’?

                     Did any woman ever say ‘No’ to You?

                             Did You solicit bids?

 Why must I ‘ask what I can do for my country’?

          Now, that was quite a line, Dear Jack!

                      Did You hear it in the hay? 

     Remember?  Ipsissema verba ...

       ‘Assshkk not’ in true lace-curtain Bostonnais.

          *********

  ----------> Yes, I was always, ever here:

                   Presta Atencion!  Open your eyes!

  Take note:  You did not marry a President’s wife –

                   Not on your life...

         A roving reporter, A searcher, A seeker,

   I was,    

     Wanting only a few photographs –

 

     Perhaps a single Profile in Courage?

                   That would do.

     We could use a little courage here, on Pennsylvania Avenue:

              Courage and no lies;

The Truth and total Trust, Jack, would have been quite enough...  

  >>>>>>>>> At last, We’re at the door:

                 You will recall, Doors open and doors shut. . .

- Dramatic Monologue/   Newberry Lyceum/ Barrington/ 30 November 1991

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LOOKEE, LOOKEE! See new faces...

                    Babes and Boys in several places

Introducing Sue Beulah Clegg, Sam Billy Corbett, and Betty Bender

 

     Sue Beulah, the hunter, trapped a wooly glabbertrave;

          Its furry hide resitsted tanning;

     She singed its bristles – since it could not shave –

          A fuzzy start for long-range planning.

 

                   ##

 

     Sue Beulah, Sue Beulah, come back to the shop,

          Where riveters rivet, and mop-uppers mop;

     Where welders wield torches; ‘n’ polishers sand;

          Carpenters shingle; and Orchestras band.

 

                   ##

 

     Sam Billy Corbett waltzed down Market Street

              Tethered to a green balloon;

     Tossed Queen Anne’s fans each ninety feet,

              And danced obscenely to an old aerobics tune.

 

                   ##  

 

     Sam Billy iced the neighbor’s yard,

          Snowballed their cats that stood on guard;

     Froze neighbor’s pipes; destroyed their stove,

          And frosted peaches in their grove.

 

                   ##

 

     In Betty Bender’s galaxy, no moons or suns may shine;

          No nebulae may orbit free across Orion’s line.

     Betty’s planets freeze in space with an occasional eclipse

          That wraps the radiant starlight

                        in obscuring curves and dips.

 

                   ##

 

     Betty Bender watched the trends:

          Bullied bankers – used her friends;

     Seized the banker’s grand finances

          Just to buy red shoes for dances.

                   ##

 

 

 

 

 

                   TRACES

 

My affection took momentum from the starting spark,

       Then stored it, as if certain of its calling.

         This love matured, and then converged with other loves.

     When apt, it dared to move about

         In utmost secrecy, with my weapon of mass affection.

     However, she was also apt in codes, and found me out:

          Did You ever stroll around a black-floored flour mill,

          Aiming to seem trackless in the dust?

 

                   ##

 

              CROWDED YARDSTICKS

 

              >>>When I was young –

                             from THREE to TEN –

          My parents marked the bedroom wall,

              To document my upward climb

                   As I grew tall.

 

                   When I met her, I marked my heart

          To show degrees of joy her loving brought.

                   Quite soon, I saw no space for marks

              Nor could love-mark space be bought. . .

         

 

              Yes, I have aged, but there remains a question –

                   Try this thought:

          What marking measures shall I use

              To calibrate delight-in-dance

     And weigh the smiles that move across her lovely face?

                             - 4:45am, 13th May 1994

 

 

 #################### END OF SET ############21 Feb. 2005#######