My hair’s greasy, sticks out every which way,
I’d better wash it.
My mind lazy, stuck fast in ruts I’d say,
I’d better cosh it.
Because it holds my heart at bay.
Say now, listen, I had this teacher see
I shan’t forget him
Made words ... glisten ... techniques and artistry ..
I don’t regret him.
With afterthought, the heart’s the key.
Without the heart, there’s no song that rings true
Full purse filled with brass.
That he’d impart, but, between me and you,
Like priests that say the mass:
Fraudulent ... parrots prate on cute.
But those words lit, inside me a true flame,
Or say, touched a spark,
Half-smothered bit of truth inside the frame
Of mere art, and mark;
To love, and never was the same.
So there I was, good intent, no training,
Trapped by what I’d feel.
And why? Because I would be maintaining
Each tryst would be “real”.
True love ...
God above, was my hope waning.
My own fault too, see, I knew what I sought.
But that’s just part.
Another who. Souls unaligned, love’s naught.
Two must have one heart ...
The Goddess; Love for what she’s wrought.
For now I’ve found you lady, and with you,
That truth’s more than song.
Alive, profound, with wonder all shot through.
Two like hearts livelong.
And flowing to the source of true.
Listen, friends, Guiraut’s cleaned up his act.
Knocked into shape by love, that’s a fact.
Come to know the nub, the core, the pith:
The heart of love is the one I’m with.
In the Vers style -- "Someone may be able to come up with a better definition, but as far as I can see, a Vers is simply a song that doesn’t really fit any other category." -- GvN
Guiraut is Gerhardt's "alter-ego", this is from a series of poems Gerhardt published in his second folio.
© 1984, Lawrence Hyink III
The West Kingdom History Website was created by and is maintained by Hirsch von Henford (mka Ken Mayer).