Modesty antedates clothes and will be resumed when clothes are no more. (Mark Twain)
When Adam donned his fig leaf
Was a sense of decency assumed.
When sons of Adam
Again find it cute
To be comfortable
In their birthday suit
Will simple modesty be resumed.
Categories:
antedates, humor, philosophy,
Form: Verse
Anon! The shadow chilled, mimikri and frosted with domineering dogma.
Thou wast trying escape and melt with thy magna carta.
The shadow was asking thee about crossroad and miniatur epic.
Who always doth fighting versus tyrannical peasant of lingua sacra?
Nay! The shadow given the souls and was sparkling in purgatory, but the light is so poor.
Accepted the unfathomable ferocity,
yearning all the while as patriacal era?
Aberrant behavior is chalked forth to tradition by robbed some of its faith, aroint thee!
Canonized the triumphant for dram of science or saint paramilitia?
Neither of these seems as blurring and ambigu answer.
Why should not members of the holy
suffering paranoia?
The shadow already blended patriach rebels, prithee!
His eyes twinkled criptically as luminated magenta and elegia.
The shadow built antedates canonization and say, "God-den Padre, gramercy!"
He goes through on his hurlyburly journey and ever reflected pareidolia.
Five beldams ate many doits, flying in the dunnest sky.
The shadow was striking tabor, unyoke, hasta la vista!
Categories:
antedates, character, imagery,
Form: Qasida
“The fate of individual human beings may not now be connected in a deep way with the rest
of the universe, but the matter out of which each of us is made is intimately tied to the
processes that occurred immense intervals of time and enormous distances in space away
from us. Our Sun is a second- or third-generation star. All of the rocky and metallic
materials we stand on, the iron in our blood, the calcium in our teeth, and the carbon in
our genes were produced billions of years ago in the interiors of a red giant star. We are
made of star-stuff.”
I am a scion of the Milky Way
Wholly unique to the highest degree.
My soul is as old as light-years away
My provenance stems from cosmic debris.
I need not religion to guide my life
My quintessence antedates mankind’s creeds.
The brief time walking beneath starlit nights
Imbue my soul more than mankind’s prayer beads.
Every thought, all that I am is akin
To these heavenly designers birthplace
The very essence, my soul within
Began eons in interstellar space.
Knowing who I am and where I came from
Is a greater joy than what I’ve become.
Categories:
antedates, philosophy, science, spaceprayer, time,
Form: Sonnet