"I am the Alpha and the Omega."
Somewhere between emerged a disruptor
Omicron relation –
a Covid mutation.
Saviour please free us from this corrupter.
How about a sip of wine?
Why not?
Or a teensy shot of vodka?
Sure.
Want a Bud Light?
Okay.
How about a fifth of rum?
I stare at my corrupter.
Come on Grandma! I say.
I am only eleven and I know better than that.
Dirtiest of men in the cosmos
Is not that hater of cleaning fluids
Ring-leader of genocide he is not
Tiger-leader of a nation he is not
Irritating witch in society he is not
Earnestly rich burglar he is not but
Smack traitor of societal virtues
The corrupter of the young is dirtiest
I am hungry.
Stomach is noisy.
It is the indicator of hunger.
While corrupter should never;
Never hear to infinity.
The Death Of Socrates
What reasoning has brought you to this place
where death destroys your gift of sanctity?
Before the fall of night, and in disgrace
yes, all those hating you, shall make it be;
they'll label you confused right to your end
corrupter of all teachers of the truth
convincing all the world, you have no friend,
and die for untold sins against our youth.
Your good and bad has brought you to despair;
all indecisiveness in what you think,
the crown upon your head, where once was hair
outshines the goblet from which you now drink.
How dare you bear the hemlock in such style,
whilst we can't even guess, what of you smile?
© ron wilson arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
The Death Of Socrates
What reasoning has brought you to this place
where death destroys your gift of sanctity?
Before the fall of night, and in disgrace
yes, all those hating you, shall make it be;
they'll label you confused right to your end
corrupter of all teachers of the truth
convincing all the world, you have no friend,
and die for untold sins against our youth.
Your good and bad has brought you to despair;
all indecisiveness in what you think,
the crown upon your head, where once was hair
outshines the goblet from which you now drink.
How can you bear the hemlock in such style,
almost as if the world can see you smile?
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
The Death Of Socrates
What reasoning has brought you to this place
where death destroys your gift of sanctity?
Before the fall of night, and in disgrace
yea, all those hating you, shall make it be;
they'll label you confused right to your end
corrupter of all teachers of the truth
convincing all the world, you have no friend,
and die for untold sins against our youth.
Your good and bad has brought you to despair;
all indecisiveness in what you think,
the crown upon your head, where once was hair
outshines the goblet from which you now drink.
How can you bear this hemlock in such style,
almost as if the world can see you smile?
yes, poets are special people
they take the time
to think of things
others would never dare
well, we may-
have a little trouble
paying our bills
but to a poet
money's just that
stupid green stuff
corrupter of thought
corrupter of morals
corrupter of a sense of perspective
corrupter of hearts
blindfolds to simple human concern
instigator of betrayel
bringer of clouds
pollution to water
proud generator of the devil's leer.
keep your money!
I'd rather have love,
or, lacking that, respect
I'd rather sleep well at night
I'm no monk
I'm just not a skunk!
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