Apollonian days, Dionysian nights,
Over the favors of females, they fight.
Estrogen’s wiles avoid testosterone’s might,
Until the wild birds of lust take flight.
children smiled and said
avoid fountain and penning ---
say laptop bleeding
when you feel romance
type @ Apollonian dot ---
no true Zen feeling...???
decide, then, truly,
you've no call for haiku.
world will still go on.
19 May 2022
Ellipse, evolute, vertex and curve,
Humdrum circle or ricochet swerve
Astroids or cusps, arcs or sectors;
What have those got to do with vectors?
Curvature, cone, Cartesian plane…
Oval, deltoid… what’s in a name?
Geoid oscillation, pedal, radial, rose…
What on earth do I know of those?
Hypocycloid, cruciform, Sierpinski carpet…
Inverse tangent or Apollonian gasket?
Snowflake, hypercube, space-time dimension
Pressured, gauged, or under tension?
Trammel of Archimedes, planes, rotations –
Congruence, right angles, equivalence relation;
Conchoid curve, Orthoptic, Lemoine hexagon,
Triangle, star or good old pentagon.
Crescent, rhombus, magatama, square,
Caustic curves, salinon, ying-yang or sphere!
About whichever’s the shape that you talk,
Basically, it’s taking a line for a walk!
IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY - LXXIII
IF ever I had a country re-made by the Revolutionary
And if ever I were that Corsican Napoleon who appropriated the Apollonian sanctuary " gymnase " and the " lycée "
I'd let no fifteen-to-eighteen year old lycéen or lycéenne barricade the portals of their holier than holy Athenian lycée to camp on rubbish bins en grasse matinée
Luscious objects of voyeurism for the highly titillated TV-public and the uniformed police and grande armée
But, believe me, I'd stuff these nubile kids in the plastic garbage cans and seal them all air-tight with searing burners, yes, Sirée
And then let their cohorts yellow-jacket teachers all products of the Sexual Revolution generation torch the bins and choke in the resulting chemical fumée
Yes, Sirée, that's what the present Philosopher-King ought to do before he too joins or already joined the ranks of the revolutionary sexually-emancipated lycée
And even if I never ever were tutored in no lycée blessed by Apollo of Lykeios in gaie migrant-purée Paris
© T. Wignesan - Paris, December 8, 2018
SYLVIA WAS AN ‘A’ STUDENT
and Alpha woman
The Abyss was bared, and malevolently yawning,
The deep black pit of endless loss to rile
You, and you didn’t know the world was turning;
And you saw the winter trees in mourning
You weren’t short-changed on their willing lack of guile
In the Apollonian myth - your soul was burning.
Telling time too true, that spring was coming,
But you let the yellow sorrow of your bile
Flood the Arcadian dark your soul was scorning-
So, you died, without ever learning
That your Attic grace would give time its shining dial,
You did not know it then, but the world was turning,
The aureole of dawn crept in, to us a warning
We only have our children for a while
The Austrian angst in which your soul was burning,
The sense of happiness missing you by a mile –
In our Aphasian gloom, your words are burning
Up rivers, mountains, roads, with a killing style –
You didn’t know it then, but the world was yearning.
FROM IN MEMORY OF HER 2004, 2008
One by one they march
upon the Apollonian horizon
Peaceful Lady Nyx leads
in her horse drawn car
And to her side the red faced
Mars, the great liberator
In his hands the freedom reins
Lightning nipped their heels hot
With the soldier Mars following
War and chaos brought they
Charring a path that only
Mercury could pave with understanding
Soon Uranus lifts the sun's eyes
And they wander through the pale mourning
Whether Venus inspired them to love
Or Neptune to race, one by one
They crossed the fiery sky
And into the cosmos
Look we and reminisce
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