"Lone cypress tree Monterey, CA," photo by D. Ramey Logan‘Lone Cypress, Pebble Beach’ and Other Poetry by Neal Dachstadter The Society June 25, 2016 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 1 Comment Lone Cypress, Pebble Beach Crack of stone for rest and bed, Wrack of storm unpressed I tread, Sun and proud and bright and gold; Dun and shroud of night, I hold. Fraternal I have some friends I got by word, We never met and rare conferred, Ann Arbor, Berkeley, Athens tend To mind and thought, which comprehend An ancient truth, from day of yore: When thought be one? From yonder, more. Long’s Drugstore, Lunch Cultus By “lunch” is meant this pharmacy, Persistent, from mid – century, As many eggs for dollars three, The kind of place we like to be. Where they mention Sigma Chi, Where you’ll hear On Jewish Rye, With Father’s Father’s Father nigh, And on the wall: that kind of guy. Neal Dachstadter is a poet living in Tennessee. His work has been printed in Decanto Poetry Magazine (UK), Western Viewpoints and Poetic Images: the Great American West (Woodinville, Washington), Society of Classical Poets Journal 2015 (Mt Hope, New York), Rocky Point Times (Puerto Peñasco, Mexico) and The Lyric (Jericho, Vermont). A member of the Demosthenian Literary Society at the University of Georgia, he deployed to Hawija, then wrote on Lookout Mountain, continuing with Delta Kappa Epsilon International. Berkeley, Ann Arbor, and Athens encouraged him as a writer. In 2015 he wrote in Arizona at Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument five miles north of Mexico. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) One Response Durlabh Singh June 26, 2016 REMEMBER. Remember Poetry is the blood of your visions It rips you apart against The torrid consolidations of mundane Strengths elongated in the retinues Sparked for uncertain verses in trials. It wants huge skies to fly It wants ruined castles for your dreams Vast open spaces for its habitations Wilder faces and unknown stipends And the spirit of beauty for Its hearty congealments. Open up the worlds for incantations The barbarous that do not hold Shipwrecks of your flesh Sinking downwards Pleads of the familiar In an unfamiliar word Silenced petals and anguished flowers. It flies to faraway lands It reaches molten cores of earth It dances on raindrops of hope It talks with dry ghosts In the scorched summers It accepts the cindered fragments Forms frolicking in the liquid sea Or shadows dipped in nothingness. Durlabh Singh. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.