DECLARATION OF INTENT

1 6 Y D E C L A R A T I O N O F I N T E N T C L I V E J A M E S My poems are the balladry of cavaliers Composed in the lost cause that was the King’s, And if from time to time their ink seems blurred with tears It is because the way of things Has gone against the haughty confidence That once allied sweet music to sound sense, So now their rhymes and rhythms count as frills and rings. My poems are the closing words of heretics Burnt to a cinder and their dust dispersed. A fierce belief that melts to stain the courtyard bricks Proves its sincerity at first, But fades in sunlight as the winning side Writes history and denies even the pride Of those who lost, the cruelty that hurts them worst. My poems written now that I must take my leave Give thanks good fortune saw me kindly borne To this departure point, and therefore when they grieve It is for anyone they mourn But me. I still recall, when I’m alone, Children of my age marked with stars and thrown Into the night and fog, leaves by the tempest torn. My poems take defeat for granted, but they say, Gallant or gaunt: if we can choose to die We have been blessed to live. It never came my way, The random flail of chance, and why My life must end is known to me. In view Of these facts, I take care that what I do Pays back the luck with which I lived to see time fly. 1 7 R My poems sing of life. Though death is also there In how they crystallize an emphasis Like a tango maestro pausing, they do not despair: They just acknowledge the abyss Awaiting us. It brings finality To what we were. It will do that for me Soon now. My poems prove that I accepted this. ...