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Maynard Hartman

Cyclic And Self Referencing Chant of I

I sat alone on a perch of stone beneath the sun
And thought about I as my neck bent back
and pitched my head up toward the sky
It reflected me back down, down to the ground
As I reached out toward the sky In hopes
Of capturing that mythical pie
To do it now or surely die
I, thought about I beneath the sky
I sat alone on a perch of stone
forever now I have wished I could fly
I could try but surely die
try and surely die
And I sat alone on perch of stone
I sat alone
Having forgotten home
alone
I

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Gloria's Glorious Glory

the festival began at dusk
amidst the rings of fairy dust
beating paths the fair and mild
and joyous came from miles and miles
to shine like flaming stars on earth
and worship now the sacred birth
of Gloria the Queen of Mirth
a dance of joy and equine song
no worry now the Green Man’s gone
the songs grew wild they gathered close
they nailed father to the post
and with his blood they drank a toast
from raven black that held his gaze
the ritual had advanced a stage
he saw just then a craven goat
before the dancers slit his throat
no time left now it soon gave birth
to Gloria the Queen or Mirth

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Dream Some Little Dream

…afterwards I laid back down
and spread my palms down on the ground
it wasn’t long before I found
myself inside a little dream
I heard a sound and looked around
and saw them swimming in the stream
a horrid sight I turned my head
and let loose a silent scream
the fish you see were busy there
eating a piece of me
I shook it of and brushed my head
I watched a leaf fall to the ground
as busy brownie moved around
and called me names but made no sound
I felt a pressure push me down
like a magnet to the ground
the fish they splashed in their little stream
as I began to dream some little dream

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