Issue 8
September 2001
William Arnett
William Arnett was a poet who resided in Hollywood, California until his death in Santa Barbara, California in 1996. Bill, as he was known, made his living in design in Hollywood California. He worked in metal and wood, and designed many articles of furniture as well as interiors of homes and offices for Hollywood entertainment figures and celebrities. He arose quite early and wrote in the early morning hours. He is also the author of numerous prose works and a screen play.
Bill attended the Univeristy of California of Santa Barbara and graduated with honors in English in the mid sixties.
Pas de Deux
My white arm
draws a bow
in utter darkness
She stirs
But does not dart
Away
We are Eclipsed so
In pools
of adjoining
Mercury
THE OLD POET ON HIS DEATH BED
ADDRESSES A YOUNG POET
You will be taken by night
I will take your Head
in my palm
At first you will see only
the darkness so thick
you will not know an eye
By the Sun, then, you will praise me,
but you will know me best
by the light among the unseen stars
There will be the Fire
to light you, and slowly
within your own room
will a chandlery blossom
tapers only you can see
& only you can light
You will host an
illimitable soul
On this point let others
not deceive you
You will live my death
AS I want it lived
& thus, when it comes to you
We together will wander
thru the perfect house
where language borns.High Dream
I am planting the sacred blue river.
In one night of rain it will grow.
Over rocks, in mist
the white, the lean of its tendrils.
AKKADIAN POEM #5
Beloved, rebuild
The orchard walls
Which take
the heavy rain
Though it is the rain
That will veil
our concealment.
They are not to know this.
Cross, transgress, reverse,
Observe, invert, deceive
Them....
When you have done
When you are free,
Come here to me
Come here to me.
Visitations
My Tower is open
Made of intricately woven branches
It is said
Who enters here
Is diverted
by a confusion of entrances.
Mine is a peaceful nod
to who comes
Yet long after she has gone
I listen
for her pelagic sighs
For which
I have true colloquy.