lines upon lines by robert hughes (usa)

lines upon lines/ contemporary
poetry in traditional forms / 
by robert hughes-
lily peak publishing. 

                                                               lines upon lines
                                                             by robert hughes


Robert Frost, four-time Pulitzer prize winner and considered by many to be the greatest American poet, often stated that he would as soon write free verse as play tennis with the net down.  Conversely Ezra Pound, a well known contemporary of Frost (and also an award winning poet) in describing his efforts to free poetry of fixed meter and form wrote in his Cantos "to break the pentameter, that was the first heave."
These contrasting statements highlight one of the dilemmas faced by the poet ---to write traditional verse or to write prose poetry.  In this collection of poems, Robert Hughes strings up the net and volleys with traiditional verse.  The poems in this collection explore the world of poetic form and most use traditional fixed patterns with the occasional use of variant structure. Explanatory notes are included to guide the reader through the maze of forms, as well as to point the reader to other poems using the same forms.
Robert Hughes has degrees from the University of Utah and Stanford University and has  studied at the Yale-China Center at the Chinese University of Hong kong. 
 He currently lives in Vietnam.


           Sanpate
                               A gift from God to Utah there she lay 
                Between the desersr and old Horseshoe Peale,
                A land of refuge where the Danes could pray 
                For overlasting glory to the meek.

                These forty-niners sought eternal gold
                To live the holy principl in peace 
                They raised a sanctuary as foretold  
                Then swore with oaths the law would never cease.

                 The principle eternal met its turn --- 
                 Her son and daughters thrown throughout the earth 
                Yet to the valley hopeful hearts do yearn
                 When searching sacred roots of greater worth.

                 Their father's  faith, though somewhat rearranged,
                 The hills are everlasting and unchanged .


                  Dear Aunt Clara Hughes


                 Joseph Smith,
                 His life was surrounded in myth
                 Therefore th simple exclamtion
                 "He was the Prophet of the Restoration."

                  Brigham Young
                  Known for his witty tongue
                  If I ever meet him face to face
                  I'll thank him for saying "This is the right place."

                  John Taylor
                  Met the Carthage jailor
                  "The Kingdom pf God or Nothing was his cry,
                  Considering the persecution, I understand why. "

                  Willord Woodruff,
                  In pictures appears gruff,
                  But if you read his extensive diary
                  You' ll find he was gentle, as well as fiery.

                  Lorenzo Snow
                  A humbler man none ever could know
                  He brought the Church back from the brink
                  With tithing, of course, what did you think?

                  Joseph F. Smith,
                  Led some stubborn oxen forthwith,
                  Crossing the plains was not too brief,
                  Stubborn oxen became his beef.         
            
                   Heber J, Grant,
                   When asked to sing, said "I can' t."
                   But his work and dream
                   Brought the faith closer to mainstream.

                   George Albert Smith,
                   Has little to rythme with
                   So I will not mumble or stumble,
                   I' ll just say he was vry humble.

                   David O. McKay
                   Started each day
                   By kissing his wife
                   This lasted hos whole life.

                   Joseph Fielding Smith,
                   Was about our only monolith
                   For having a gospel answer for anything queried
                   A task from which be never wearied.

                    Harold B.Lee
                    Efficient as he could be.
                    Looked after our welfare when things were depresssing,
                    He left us no greater blessing.

                    SpencerW. Kimball,
                    On the basketball court was quite nimble,
                    (And as an aside,
                    I imagine it helped him lengthen his stride.)

                    Ezra Taft Benson.
                    To the nation was an ensign
                    He was a national secretary
                    In Civil War times when life got scary.

                    Howard W. Hunter,
                    Could not have been blunter,
                    "Follow Christ"he said,
                    And then he was dead.

                    Gordon B. Hinckley,
                    With clear eyes that are twinkley,
                    Now think it's official --- not runner,
                    He's got a keen sense of humor.


                    Mekong

                    Across the Plain of Reeds 
                    the Dragon River feeds the land
                    When rains come it expands
                    then floods, wiping the sand bars clean,
                    The source of living seen in rice-
                    rich paddies gathered thrice
                    each year through sacrifice), but none
                    work harder than the one
                    flowing under the sun each day,
                    Congested waterway ---
                    moving vast array of goods
                    and worker's livelihoods
                    carved in exotic woods and sewn
                    in brillant cloths, all shown
                    in floating markets thrown beside
                    canals that spread out wide
                    Small sampans quickly glide along,
                    the sound of morning-songs
                    from geese and cranes prolong the time
                    of echoed bamboo chimes,
                    until the fruit bat rythmes its call.
                    with evening songs that fall
                    in mangroves swamps where tall thin stilts
                    hold up the wood homes built
                    above  the flood borne slilt .  A grin
                    slips out from deep within
                    the woman with a thin cone hat
                    of bamboo carved in slats,
                    the grin masks the pain that she fears
                    Within a hundred years
                    uncounted are the tears that flow,
                    but where the river goes
                    it feels her pains and knows her needs


                    Phuket

                    The hills look lush and green 
                    The sun feels warm, the sky shines blue 
                    The beach lies white and clean, 
                    The sunsets are romantic, too.

                    The air feels moist that breezes through the slcies
                    The food tastes too good to be true. 
                    The crashing of the waves will hypnotize.

                     The friendly people smile with twinkling eyes
                     The voices sing-song with delight 
                     The sensual fleshpots slowly mesmerize.

                     The incense fills the temple site 
                     The music plays into the night.
                     The body begs for more The old life as a bore.


                      Kuala Lumpur

                     The artist framed the flowers in her mind
                     then mIxed the brightest pigments she could find,
                     she wove some cloth in swatches as milk 
                     then splashed bright orchids on the virgin silk 
                     and wore the work of art on cIty streets.

                     A crafstman sensed the beauty flowing by
                     and viewed his craft behind an artist's eyes 
                     new buildings pushed up through the azure blue 
                     with graceful arches sweeping imto view, 
                     and shin twin sculptures towered over crowds 
                     beside a spire that scared into the clouds.

                     And now, despite the crafstman's arrogance 
                     colors still flow in simple elegance.

                          ROBERT HUGHES  

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