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Pale Western Star: The Poetry of Robin Devoe
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About Pale Western Star: The Poetry Of Robin Devoe
Fresh, diverse lyric poetry from Robin Devoe. Select excepts follow: From the title poem "Pale Western Star": Scene 3: “This Ride Was My Delight” Julian: Riding…yes, we go a journey Looking for what? We do not worry lest the wishful thing flee or melt beneath too eager a gaze. Cycling, we watch; talking, we feel here we live without reflection, each moment one fresh draught of what the universe thinks we ought to be feeding our souls. And be this pain – or pleasures too rough and wild to contain is no choice for us, but for Destiny a dream: Cast forever beyond what we seem. Pristina Aventis Togather we, beneath crystalline acclivity Rave o'er this other, 'pon pillow bedewed: And quick-rills sing your rhinis trimbles; And Gankerings whimwelp long, soft chindles As the ming-phyres sink beyond purpureal twills... Lark! Ho, the cries of Alatia poetously rise, Wisping to Luna in half-mad surmise Of a night passing through chronos pantillate – The intimate vespers of nectarous busqueda, Alive, prequacious... yet interminable – As ever and on endless lovers dream. The Walk Feeling still the ripples, Your touch sent toward distant lands; Still the echoes of rapture, lapping Upon those sacred sands: That farthest horizon within Is not known… Until we walk there unalone. From "Overture": I. The Season of Light. This chapter includes many early poetic ventures, dabbled upon whilst in the throes of the lovely twilight of an Alaskan youth coursing thru deep, cerulean nights – that summer light, that luminous gloam, seeming bred especial for the boreal lands where Nature unveils her most beautiful, most sacred countenance. Cycling the outskirts of these dreaming landscapes, urban and bucolic, back in eighties Spenard – the entire city slept, while at half past two in the morning, a lone rider could feel the mysterious, powerful love of the western horizon's twitterlight. That light was proof of God, Her window toward what mortals may perceive of the divine. Casting eyes upon that horizon for hours on end, filled with an intense, glorious rapture beyond understanding; these secret times, the most joyous of an age, soul buoyed toward what strange and lovely height? We call this most exquisite twilight, tinting the sky in the middle of an Alaskan half-night and all the sweet feelings that constellate around it (including, it seems, some of the strongest and noblest feelings of which humans are capable) – we name this divine hint of heaven the Fleeting Azurine. It's a permeating coda in such poems as Twilight, Heaven’s Faintest Star, luniversal lispers, and Horizon Dream. Past Her Purple Hills may offer the purest illustration of this theme: sunset, the horizon, the sky's tincture… described with a tenderness of feeling, with a sweet, sad tone of an emotion approaching the divine. III. Poetical Mindswirl Most beauty-filled – these vague, dreamlike, lisping works: the Poetical Mindswirl. Genesized after exposure to Carroll's Jabberwocky and Joyce's Finnegan's Wake, within this style we strain to see the trellis-work supporting those “dreaming spires”, most delicate and beautiful – and just as we think a tiny sphere of infinite beauty pinnacles atop some sublime steeple, one blink brings her tumbling down from heaven. Some tumble gloriously: subtle intimations of ideal beauty lingering aloft the wreckage.
