Marc D. Eisenman
The poems in this anthology were written over 16 years, and examine nature, love, music, humanity, conservation, grief and hope. The styles are direct and passionate, written from the heart, either in idyllic reverie or responding to the whims of life itself.
The essays provoke thought and stimulate the readers’ views on the subjects examined – to finish the anthology are eleven short and charming fables for a modern era.
Open the pages and enjoy.
Marc D. Eisenman is the pen name of a composer and philosopher. His interests cover nature, history, the sciences, music, martial arts and humanitarian issues.
He is the author of “Crossover” and other novels, 14 symphonies, 3 concertos and a science theory. Under his real name he has written a substantial textbook on music theory – “The Harmonic Universe.”
Fantasia
Even those dying leaves
That dance in autumn breeze
Fluttering softly down
To a crisp crunching gown
Upon ground from which their parent grew.
Even they kissed sweet summer,
Tasted spring’s delicious lips;
That was the love they knew.
Even those swallows upon the wing
That sometimes solemn sing
Farewell sorrow chants
To aestival meadow plants
Amongst which they fed and roamed.
Even they had found a joyfulness
Nestling beneath a breeding sun;
That was their blissful song.
The sea does shore embrace
And winter clasps the wilderness.
The barren trees converse,
Themselves in harmony immersed.
The great sky blends
Even with an autumn world
And even ice-laden lands
Can care for life that depends.
Thus give yourself unreserved to me,
For I have no eternity.
Let me kiss a prayer upon your lips
Of your love drink sweet sips.
Upon your shoulders to lose my tears,
Whisper tickling poetry in your ears,
Snuggle my face to your chest –
Lock love within your breasts.
Let me taste your lip’s nectar,
Pass warm-cool breaths along your spine,
Travelling your many ways of skin,
My tongue as a tide lapping in
At your beaches and caves of sin.
Press your heat firm to mine
Before my deathbell rings.
Give yourself before the reaper sings.
