You were for us not only love, but bread

You were for us not only love, but bread,
Our source of sustenance as well as joy.
Now not grief but hunger mourns the dead.

We must content ourselves with what we beg,
The bitter gifts no kindness can alloy.
You were for us not only love, but bread.

We miss you, but our hearts have turned to lead.
We cannot one sweet pang of pain enjoy.
Now not grief but hunger mourns the dead.

Nor have we any tears that we might shed
For you, nor thoughts that might grief buoy.
You were for us not only love, but bread,

And so there are no dreams of you in bed,
Nor memories with which my mind might toy.
Now not grief but hunger mourns the dead.

No room, no room, but emptiness instead,
A need that does all other need destroy.
You were for us not only love, but bread.
Now not grief but hunger mourns the dead.

---Nicholas Gordon

You killed yourself and didn't think of me

You killed yourself and didn't think of me.
I can't blame you for that, and yet I do,
For now your pain becomes my legacy.

What agony impelled you not to be?
I loved you-wasn't that enough for you?
You killed yourself and didn't think of me,

Nor saw through my eyes what you made me see,
Nor cared about my life when yours was through.
And now your pain becomes my legacy,

And I must fight to keep my sanity,
For what you did defines what must be true:
You killed yourself and didn't think of me.

I cannot think you did it selfishly;
So great a sacrifice leaves nothing due.
But now your pain becomes my legacy,

And I must sail across that bitter sea
That leaves no trace of joy or residue.
You killed yourself and didn't think of me,
So now your pain becomes my legacy.

---Nicholas Gordon

Words can tell what hearts divine

Words can tell what hearts divine
This most romantic time of year:
So will you be my Valentine?

I'll be yours if you'll be mine
Till golden moon meets midnight drear.
For words can tell what hearts divine

When air's perfume and water's wine,
And cupids hover at one's ear:
So will you be my Valentine?

And do we feelings dare define
In phrases adamant and clear?
For words can tell what hearts divine,

And souls can step across a line
On days when angels wait to cheer:
So will you be my Valentine?

Ah, love! Let love this one day shine
On fancies lush and passions sheer!
For words can tell what hearts divine:
So will you be my Valentine?

---Nicholas Gordon

When one has reached the age of eighty-five

When one has reached the age of eighty-five,
And years, like mountains crossed, are soft with haze,
It is a triumph simply to survive.

One is where few have managed to arrive,
Where consciousness alone is cause for praise,
When one has reached the age of eighty-five.

And when one can do more than be alive,
Can cope, can comprehend, can turn a phrase,
It's still a triumph simply to survive,

To breathe, to be satiate, to desire, to derive
Solace from the lingering ends of days.
When one has reached the age of eighty-five,

And memories of infancy revive,
And faces long forgotten meet one's gaze,
It is a triumph simply to survive,

To hold together this one world, to strive
To keep what life inevitably betrays.
When one has reached the age of eighty-five,
It is a triumph simply to survive.

---Nicholas Gordon

What a puzzle Nick's poems are!

What a puzzle Nick's poems are!
I cannot grasp what he is after.
Marx is easier by far!

Why write, if one is out to bar
All comprehension? Does he hafta?
Marx is easier by far.

If only some new thought would jar
Bourgeois perception, as in Kafka!
But Nick's poems empty puzzles are.

I think I would put him on par
With Cage or Pollack: Which is dafter?
Marx is easier by far.

Under what sectarian star
Was he begat? What gnomic laughter
Twists those poems which puzzles are?

Ah me! I'll never know. A for-
Eign joke, a filial disaster!
God! Such puzzles Nick's poems are!
Marx is easier--by far!

---Nicholas Gordon

Weep, weep within me, darling

Weep, weep within me, darling. There's release
In tears, in sorrow, in love that brings such pain.
You live inside of me, so rest in peace.

I know that like a sea you cannot cease
To crash against my heart, again, again.
Weep, weep within me, darling. There's release

From all the cruelty of your short lease,
The unimagined hell of the self-slain.
You live inside of me, so rest in peace.

I was cut off from you and could not piece
Together bows that lay beyond your rain.
Weep, weep within me, darling. There's release

In knowing that your love, like magic fleece,
Will warm me through the winters that remain.
You live inside of me, so rest in peace.

My love for you, dear mother, will increase
As more and more your will I will unchain.
Weep, weep within me, darling: there's release.
You live inside of me, so rest in peace.

---Nicholas Gordon

Wedding Vows

1. Because I love and cherish you,
And want to fill your heart with grace,
These things I promise I will do:

I vow to tell you what is true
That you might touch whom you embrace
Because I love and cherish you.

I vow to put aside my view
And paint my portrait from your place:
These things I promise I will do.

And when you must your dreams renew,
I vow to give you ample space
Because I love and cherish you.

I vow to make our battles few
And love the child behind the face:
These things I promise I will do.

And that we might make one of two,
Too deep to know, too vast to trace,
Because I love and cherish you,
These things I promise I will do.

2. These things I promise I will do
That life may grant you ample grace
Because I love and cherish you:

I vow to treasure what is true
That I might touch whom I embrace:
These things I promise I will do.

I'll build a garden in your view
That with sweet fruit will stone replace
Because I love and cherish you.

I vow to love each day anew,
For love must dance through time and space:
These things I promise I will do.

I vow to make your terrors few
And then with you those demons face
Because I love and cherish you.

And now, as we make one of two,
A passage we cannot retrace,
These things I promise I will do
Because I love and cherish you.

---Nicholas Gordon

Though I chose death instead of pointless pain

Though I chose death instead of pointless pain,
Please forgive the manner of my leaving.
My love and need for all of you remain.

I could not long such suffering sustain,
Nor would it long have held you from your grieving.
Though I chose death instead of pointless pain,

I hope that choice will not my memory stain,
Nor lead you to be wroth at my deceiving.
My love and need for all of you remain.

For only in you do I live again,
Woven like a wind into your weaving.
Though I chose death instead of pointless pain,

I put to you the plea of the self-slain:
To comprehend an anguish past conceiving.
My love and need for all of you remain

That all that I have been not be in vain,
But blend into the earth of your believing.
Though I chose death instead of pointless pain,
My love and need for all of you remain.

---Nicholas Gordon

Those last few years of helpless pain

Those last few years of helpless pain,
Depression, sickness, sadness, blight:
Ah! Would I have them back again!

I could not such demand sustain
On my poor stock of love and light
Those last few years of helpless pain,

When what I had to do was plain,
And I lacked strength to do it right.
Ah! Would I have them back again

To love you better, though in vain,
And be with you with all my might!
Those last few years of helpless pain

Are now for me what must remain:
I did not your long love requite.
Ah! Would I have them back again,

I would that single chance regain
To bring you well to your good night.
Those last few years of helpless pain:
Ah! Would I have them back again!

---Nicholas Gordon

This truth is like a sea that has no shore

This truth is like a sea that has no shore,
Chaos infinite in heart and mind:
That you should once have been, and are no more.

To me you are as lovely as before:
Your voice still sings of life, your eyes still shine.
This truth is like a sea that has no shore,

An agony no reason can endure,
A knot of pain no passion can unbind:
That you should once have been, and are no more.

You died because some drunken bastard bore
Across the barrier of one thin line.
This truth is like a sea that has no shore:

That I cannot your battered face restore;
That all my love for you cannot turn time;
That you should once have been, and are no more.

We are all on a death march, numb and raw,
Driven on as loved ones fall behind.
This truth is like a sea that has no shore:
That you should once have been, and are no more.

---Nicholas Gordon

This Mother's Day without you strains belief

This Mother's Day without you strains belief
In life and love and what it means to be,
But there is beauty in my lonely grief.

Your death is like a wound without relief,
Pain on pain as far as I can see,
And so this day without you strains belief.

What's the point of living when a thief
Can break into your heart so easily?
But there is beauty in my lonely grief.

You fell away from me, a withered leaf
Twisting down to darkness, leaving me
This day without you, chilling my belief.

And yet there's beauty in this burning brief
Bright burst of light that ends in agony,
Beauty in the cause of lonely grief,

The love I have for you, a jewel-like reef
In silent prayer beneath my empty sea.
This Mother's Day without you strains belief,
But there is beauty in my lonely grief.

---Nicholas Gordon

There's no understanding what you did

There's no understanding what you did,
Or why, or what we now should think or do:
No way to see what your last sorrow hid.

What unimaginable agony amid
Our ordinary lives unraveled you?
There's no understanding what you did,

No way for you to tell us why you rid
Yourself of us and family, and . . . who?
No way to see what your last sorrow hid.

Or was it you were just a spoiled kid,
Trying to make us all feel bad for you?
There's no understanding what you did,

Whether mere curiosity had bid
You to sneak ahead a lethal view;
No way to see what your last sorrow hid,

Nor penetrate that awful, granite lid
That lies between our thoughts and what is true.
There's no understanding what you did,
No way to see what your last sorrow hid.

---Nicholas Gordon

There is no greater miracle than this

There is no greater miracle than this:
The quickening of flesh within the womb,
Summoning an angel to a kiss.

Ay, me! Again the gist of Genesis:
The gulf of light darts vast against the gloom!
There is no greater miracle than this.

Ay, me! Again the voice of the abyss,
Tailoring the temple to the tomb,
Summoning an angel to a kiss.

The paradox defies analysis:
Soul from sand, sanctity from spume.
There is no greater miracle than this.

Nor ought one such absurdity dismiss:
The rationing of reason to a room,
Summoning an angel to a kiss.

Life walks upon a sea of nothingness,
Eternal in the beauty of its bloom.
There is no greater miracle than this:
Summoning an angel to a kiss.

---Nicholas Gordon

There are mountains too beautiful to see

There are mountains too beautiful to see
And valleys far too lovely for our eyes.
Yet that is where we often want to be:

Pure and passionate, untamed and free,
Racing through a field beyond our skies
In those mountains too beautiful to see.

We hunger with a cruel intensity
That rips away the smile on our disguise.
Yet that is where we often want to be:

Impaled upon a painful ecstasy
So real that all else seems like whispered lies
In those mountains too beautiful to see.

But we must sing our lonely sanity
And dance among the ashes of our cries.
Yet that is where we often want to be:

Naked in a room that we would flee,
Defenseless in our love, if we are wise.
For those mountains are too beautiful to see,
And those valleys are too lovely far to be.

---Nicholas Gordon

The vows you have just taken, pledging love

The vows you have just taken, pledging love,
Mean far more than words can ever mean.
May their gentle spirit in you move.

May your years fulfill the beauty of
The feelings whose expression we've just seen,
The vows you have just taken, pledging love.

And may you always put these vows above
The things that make life smaller and more mean.
May their gentle spirit in you move.

May your children know the power of
These words to shape a world that's sane and clean,
These vows you have just taken, pledging love.

And if some day there is a need to prove
The strength of will that from these words you glean,
May their gentle spirit in you move.

Let no fear or pain your love remove,
Nor shallow, selfish hope your true joy screen.
Let the vows you've taken, pledging love,
In their awesome grace within you move.

---Nicholas Gordon

Talk to me as lovers do

Talk to me as lovers do,
Regardless what you have to say,
And I will gladly talk to you.

Be kind, but most of all be true:
Throw your masks and shields away.
Talk to me as lovers do,

Anger, pain, and boredom, too,
Let all that's in you come my way,
And I will gladly talk to you.

We've had rough times, but we get through:
We choose through hurricanes to stay.
So talk to me as lovers do.

Beneath the storm I will renew
My vow to love you more each day,
And I will gladly talk to you.

All darkness turns to light when you
And I can weep and touch and play.
Come talk to me as lovers do
And I will gladly talk to you.

---Nicholas Gordon

Such love of life cannot so quickly fade

Such love of life cannot so quickly fade
Or vanish like a vapor in the wind.
For it was of a lasting pleasure made,

And fierce, fierce joy too bright to turn to shade,
A sun no single moment can rescind.
Such love of life cannot so quickly fade

Or vanish from the fields on which it played
These many years so fortunate and kind.
For it was of a lasting pleasure made,

Nor can it be by time or space betrayed,
As music is immortal in the mind.
Such love of life cannot so quickly fade

Or vanish as the yearning years invade,
Sweeping 'cross the will unknowing, blind.
For it was of a lasting pleasure made,

Singing through the silence unafraid,
In beauty still sustained our hearts combined.
Such love of life cannot so quickly fade,
For it was of a lasting pleasure made.

---Nicholas Gordon

No love so strong it needs no sign

No love so strong it needs no sign,
Nor feeling deep it needs no light:
So will you be my Valentine?

Love loves the days that loves define,
When words bring souls to silent sight.
No love so strong it needs no sign,

Nor can we our own souls divine
Without the music of delight:
So will you be my Valentine?

And will you let yourself be mine
As I am yours, of need and right?
No love so strong it needs no sign,

Nor is it wrong to draw a line
And need with hungry need requite:
So will you be my Valentine?

For love grows old like sun-drenched wine
That sweetness brings to evenings bright.
No love so strong it needs no sign:
So will you be my Valentine?

---Nicholas Gordon

I'm sorry I can't be with you today

I'm sorry I can't be with you today
When all the family's gathered in one place.
But I am with you in another way,

A current in the stream of what you say,
Alive within your consciousness of grace.
I'm sorry I can't be with you today

To share your happiness and touch the clay
That once it was my fortune to embrace.
But I am with you in another way,

An intimate that time cannot betray,
With you always, unconstrained by space.
I'm sorry I can't be with you today

To watch with you the slanting sunlight play,
Casting lovely shadows through the lace.
But I am with you in another way,

Waiting for you where the shadows lay
Their darkness soft across your gentle face.
I'm sorry I can't be with you today.
But I am with you in another way.

---Nicholas Gordon

I would not be the sun to end your night

I would not be the sun to end your night,
Nor would I be the wall to turn your tears.
But I will watch with you until it's light.

Because there are no words to set things right
Nor hopes that one immersed in mourning hears,
I would not be the sun to end your night,

Offering a wisdom far too bright
To soothe your pain or put to rest your fears.
But I will watch with you until it's light.

There must be time to grieve that sorrow might
Be equal to the love of days and years.
I would not be the sun to end your night.

For grief, before it breaks, must reach its height,
And tides must turn before one homeward steers.
But I will watch with you until it's light.

There are agonies no friendship can requite,
A bitterness unstained till dawn appears.
I would not be the sun to end your night.
But I will watch with you until it's light.

---Nicholas Gordon