Wings, halos, and sunny
Unspoken words taste like honey.
Fluttering around the heavenly zone
They carry the Almighty's throne.
Overflowing with kindness
They erase our inner emptiness.
Agglomeration of forbearance
And superabundance
Are they existent, yet?
This, indeed, is a constant quest.
Ancestry and Me
I am:
55% Western European
13% Jewish
20% Scotch-Irish
12% Scandinavian
So, my DNA tells me.
I’m a mutt, a combination,
an aggregation, an agglomeration,
a conglomeration and what other word
you want to use.
But, you add this all up
and I am me.
Saturnalia my Dream
Cycloidal forms transmuting to the involute
obduration under duress a malleable direction
coming to nothing just the gearing of time
Spartan gates left open to a millennium of thought
three legged animals given there a soft palfrey canter
air floating fish seen and their no need water
still the rusting coulter rusts and rusts
the power such lasciviousness constant thought
why would a simple man under go such agglomeration
deracinate weak seeming silly there the confederations
let us all sharpen so freeing all thought
fools are fools concomitant if you will keep with it
monsters lovely chimeras and beauty
entering the world of Hieronymus Bosch
let us not be reduced to the witch of Buchenwald
interweaving ourselves into their existence
Poets like social butterflies,
try to get out, to see and be seen
To hear and recite
To post and 'got mail' replies
But word-smithing is a soul alone
depositing to a vast agglomeration
always on the stove, brooding and bubbling away.
Cycloidal forms transmuting to the involute
obduration under duress a malleable direction
coming to nothing just the gearing of time
Spartan gates left open to a millennium of thought
three legged animals given there a soft palfrey canter
air floating fish seen and their no need water
still the rusting coulter rusts and rusts
the power such lasciviousness constant thought
why would a simple man under go such agglomeration
deracinate weak seeming silly there the confederations
let us all sharpen so freeing all thought
fools are fools concomitant if you will keep with it
monsters lovely chimeras and beauty
entering the world of Hieronymus Bosch
let us not be reduced to the witch of Buchenwald
interweaving ourselves into their existence
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