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Orb by Byron Wayne Scott - HTML preview

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The poems in Orb and Orb II are my very earliest writings. They were written between


1967 and 1970 when I was 15 to 18 years old.


Originally, I was going to pick out the best 10-15 poems and put them into a book. I


think it would have made a fairly descent book of poetry. But as I began reading through


the work, after these many, many years, I saw that the poems presented a natural


progression in my writing abilities, and so I decided to keep them all together in the order


in which they were written.


Many of these poems reflect the influences of the times. The Viet Nam war and the


assassination of Robert Kennedy are two events that stand out. I also see the influence of


the Beatles, especially the Sgt. Pepper’s album, along with Simon and Garfunkle. It’s


obvious that some of these poems were meant to be songs, although I cannot remember


having ever written any music to go with the lyrics, like I did with the Long Road series.


Most of the poems simply reflect the thoughts of a young boy entering adulthood. Some


are good and some are bad. A couple of them represent the biggest bunch of drivel I


think I have ever read. They make me wonder, “what was I thinking at the time?” Of course, poems should be timeless. And many of these are. The ones that are stuck in


time are interesting in their own way, but the poems that transcend time constitute the


best poetry.


I hope you take the time to read through both these books, Orb and Orb II. The poems get


better as you go along. And if only one of them touches your soul, it would not be


considered a waste of time. ORB


A Book of Poetry


1 Ascent unto Providence…..September 1967


2 The Heritage…..October 1967


3 The Illusion…..October 1967


4 The Way of Society…..November 1967


5 To Outshine the Sun…..February 1968


6 Resplendence…..February 1968


7 The Snowfall…..March 1968


8 Like Death…..January 1968


9 The Love Dream…..February 1968


10 Crecian Dames…..March 1968


11 The Prophet (a fantasy)…..April 1968 12 To Be All Alone…..April 1968


13 Photograph…..May 1968


14 To Nancy…..May 1968


15 Castle…..June 1968


16 Robert…..June 1968


17 Earth as a Background…..July 1968


18 Fawn…..September 1968


19 Skunk…..September 1968


20 Conquests (over Simple Sanderson and the Wretched Establishment)…..Sept. 1968


21 Speak of Love…..October 1968


22 But for Dreadful Time…..December 1968


23 Dream of the Scot…..January 1969


24 Juggernaut…..January 1969


25 Laurie…..February 1969


26 Orb…..March 1969 Ascent unto Providence


I go into the valley


Through the tall grass so indifferent


That leads unto the cypresses


Where grow the lilies and the mint


And the brook so gently bubbling


In the sweet scent so like wine


Solitude I find


Peace that now is mine


So I stretch out with my laziness


On the moss so soft and fine


And I think of things that matter


And love that once was mine


And I doze off in a while


My heart conceives a smile


And soon will come revival


The daytime will surcease


Yet the minted breeze will linger on


And I’ll follow into the doorway And outside death can only portray


The inevitable decay


God’s dismay; the devil’s display


And I’ll dwell in the house of the Lord forever The Heritage


I stood beneath the lamplight


My shadow washed into the dark night


I washed into the dark night


And there stood the Rev. Mr. Brown


There stood the Rev. Mr. Brown


The snow fell down through the trees


Covered up the cold, dead leaves


I was the cold, dead leaves


And there stood the Rev. Mr. Brown


There stood the Rev. Mr. Brown


The church was somber, and aware


There was no one there without a prayer


I was there without a prayer


And there stood the Rev. Mr. Brown


There stood the Rev. Mr. Brown


Everyone lies down to sleep


There is no one here left to weep I am here but not to weep


For the Rev. Mr. Brown


And the congregation within the ground


And the congregation within the ground The Illusion


It was a time of plenty


The grass grew, the flowers bloomed


For in 301,574 A.D.


There was love


A bride and a groom


About the hill


Sage scented the still air


And the man


Looked over the lush countryside


To the Thames. He cared


He had blown his mind


He ran down one peasant and more


Which he left in the street


And the rats came out to eat


He was from the House of Lords The Way of Society


People in the street


Like statues stood


For their life


No one dared move


Lest they die


This is society


Not to be disturbed


No one can revolt


Lest they be turned away


Lest they die


The air becomes stagnant


Will no one dare breath?


For his life?


But ‘tis not for them to innovate


Lest they be turned away


And they die To Outshine the Sun


A tree


From a seedling


Grew quickly,




Majestically spread its branches,


Reached the sun.


And to strip the bark


Or cut the trunk,


Is to wash into the sea


The sands of eternity.


A woman


From a babe


Grew splendidly,








Her radiant smile


Outshone the sun


Her beauty Shaded the tree.


And to strip her of her love


Is to wash into the sea


Eternity. Resplendence


A tanned body


Of a girl that I know


Dances in the setting sun


Opens her mind


As the night comes


Sheds her smile


As the night comes


Lying under


The gumdrop tree


Is a girl that I know


She makes the gumdrops


Melt to snow


Sweet gumdrops


Melt to snow


Sitting in


An apple tree blossom


Is the girl that I know


The bee mistakes her For the sweet nectar


I love her


She’s sweet as nectar


Her tanned body


Soft as the pussywillow


Her voice


Sweet as a nightingale


See my heart swell


She knows I love her


See her heart swell The Snowfall


A jungle wonderland


And against the background


Of a setting sun


With horizontal bars


Of royal purple


And streaming scarlet


Falls a white fleece of snow


Farther apart


Drop the flakes


Until they cease




The reflection of the sun




Long and distant


Illuminating red upon the droplets


Of melting frost


That lie throbbing


Upon the vanishing wonderland


And die alone Upon the barren wasteland


Much like the soldiers Like Death


I stumble down the alleyway


Past the garbage and decay


And death


But I find death stands out from all the rest


As I kneel beside one who is dead


To catch my breath


She is so still and satisfied


It brings a question to my mind


I am mystified


For she remembers to me


Two, who in life, are as she now lies


Peaceful, without strife


Happy, without care


Me and my lover


Like death


Calm, not obsessed


And as I gaze into the dead woman’s face


An enigma has been answered


And I no longer fear death The Love Dream


Over the rainbow


In a far off galaxy


Where the soft rains fall in a kaleidoscope of color


But never touch the ground


And the gentle breeze clutches up the worries


And carries them far out over the endless sea


And buries them deep in the ocean blue


When you want—there is


An island.


An eternal realm of quietude and beauty


Of golden sands that glisten in the never-ending starlight


And giant palm trees that flourish and tower over all else.


The moss covered trails, surrounded by fields of flowers,


Lead from the wall of palms to the Fountain of Burgundy


And then away into the darkness which is The Nothingness.


The beauteous Fountain of Burgundy is a fall of red wine


From a small precipice that juts out of the darkness


And also disappears into the Nothingness.


Wild grapes grow up the side of the precipice


On the sides of the falling wine And orange trees, tangled in lianas, coupled with


The mosses and ferns, surround the superficial Crimson Pool,


While the magical blue-red light


That illuminates the area in a shower of shadow and haze


Comes from the mystic rock that forms the bottom of the pool.


And the love and tenderness that is found


On the golden sands, and by the Crimson Pool,


In the fields of flowers, and in the Nothingness,


Is what makes The Love Dream. Crecian Dames


A stroll through the orchard


Of banana groves and orange


Green, lush


Dark sky spotted yellow


Full moon speckled orange


A babe at his side


This the sporty Crecian Dames


His Spanish-American plantation


Olympic pool at the side


Area speckled tan


With fifteen bikinied babes


Lying on the cemented sand


And all are in the favor


Of the sporty Crecian Dames


Upon the shores of Peru


Beat the tattered waves


Some of thirty foot size Atop them he would strive


And fallen upon the coral


Bravely he would die


With no babes by his side


This the sporty Crecian Dames The Prophet (a fantasy)


Within a dark café


The jangled rhythm


Of a folk guitar


And the oriental whine


Of a bearded man’s sitar


A prayer for those who pray


A smile for those who play


And the Lord beckons


To those on the road to Mecca


A step into the night


And down a crowded sidewalk


There is no one there


With whom to talk


And so


A turn down


A Bleeker Street


Where suddenly he is beaten


And pounded upon By a bearded man


With a white virgin robe on


A prophet in his own mind


The beaten man was one


Who took the road to Palestine


He drank of the Lord’s wine


And death he never feared


And Jesus Christ wore a beard


And as he says so


The crowd looks on horrified


And he dies


Alone To Be All Alone




And a remorseful awakening


Of memories


Of a life now past




The seeds have been shaking


From stories


Whose morals had been cast


Have you come to know her?


A strikingly beautiful lady


As she lies all alone


At Weymouth & Malcombe Regis


Reading the poems


Of Percy Bysshe Shelley


Collecting seashells


And enjoying the sun And the saltwater smell


Once an easy pick-up


She was never stuck-up


Never alone at night


Never in the right


Many have come to know her


She sits


In the end


With her loneliness


With the cool north wind


As her only friend


Eddystone Rocks


And sea gulls


A rose bush


And pretense: fire


For the stem


Is the world


Is the bush’s briar Photograph


A spectrum painting


Of entangled silhouette


Enshrouded by lilac flowers and


Orange trees in blossom white


And the rays of an auburn sun were


Photographed stabbing the


Grandeur of the marigolds


Through fields of incense ran we


Hand in hand, knowing only


One another, and not seeing


The stately eagle forever flying


We came to stop by a fountain and


The wines flowed on and on


And the clouds overhead never stopped

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