His lantern shining on a summer's day,
To pierce the darkness of the human soul,
His pace deliberate, seeking on his way,
To find a man of only virtue full.
An idle quest, a philosophic stunt?
For surely roses cannot bloom in caves;
That man of virtue would the Furies hunt,
An angel cannot swim a sea of knaves.
But let us cast that light in different light,
Not if a man can be what cannot be,
But if one holds a candle in the night,
And choose a raft to be on moody sea?
For full perfection shall not grace this Earth,
But in the little things, lies life its worth.
One cast his form upon the living age,
One lived his life above it, or below;
One legend for his vigor and his rage,
One craved the beauties only minds can know.
O, little good of either can be said,
“The Great” most so in murder and in wine;
And Cynics named for doggish lives they led;
But then, in all of life, there’s little fine.
A little thing, an idling of a day,
No, scarcely worth so small a poem as this;
Two lives a moment crossed upon their way,
And neither would the other ever miss.
But there in Corinth, now a common sight,
Where one cast shadows, and one sought the light.
Dialogue 1
Plato: Dog one, did you know that the moon you see is not the perfect moon?
Diogenes: The moon shines or shies away, twice a month. What a wonderful clock!
Dialogue 2
Plato: A perfect city exists where human perfection is achieved.
Diogenes: I am still looking for one good man. The forest suits me fine.
Dialogue 3
Plato: Dog one, come and join us in drink and merriment.
Diogenes: The fields are in bloom.
Dialogue 4
Plato: Precisely, man is a featherless biped being.
Diogenes: Here is this plucked chicken; your man.
Diogenes, philosopher in Greece,
was said to be a dawdler. "Devil finds
some seedy work for idle hands, don´t fleece
our youth!" He saw the walls in people´s minds
who all declined his odd and frugal life.
He lived on bread and water, beans and fish,
without belongings, even without wife.
King Alexander promised a free wish:
"Ask anything of me, so make your choice!"
Got speedy answer: "Stand out of my light."
The famous king confessed with lowered voice:
"So eastwards now, the Persians I will fight.
But if I were no king I´d seek your peace,
Diogenes, philosopher in Greece."
May 13, 2022
Orphan Sonnet Poetry Contest, sponsored by Emile Pinet
Orphan Sonnet with a rhyme scheme of Abab - cdcd - efef - aA,
10 syllables per line in three quatrains, and a final couplet
with the last line repeating the opening line.
"Blushing is the color of virtue."
You're done.
You melt like a sigh
on the lips of angels.
You've drained
the paleness of injustice,
your own hands tangled up,
aw, the square stare of the truth,
impassable duel of the pupils.
Your hands are filled with the face of our tragedy,
witherering among the sidereal flowers,
a cursed sunset,
a lamp lit in the wee hours,
no truce is better than advancing to the edge of yourself,
throwing yourself into the fire of the stars,
crossing the hard core time;
with flimsy memories
descending into a blessed hell.
You want to die with the lamp lit,
not talk about anything that gives you away
when you smoke compulsively,
tramontane and bold,
you know how pliable is the scroll of fear.
You are bad, Diogenes,
with your airs of moldy poet,
twitching the neurons of those who feel
that Truth is even more pliable,
Come here, my ox, my friend.
Diogenes holds a lantern
Hypnotized- the faint light
Eyes search all nooks and turn
Desire in them makes them bright
Drank no voda only lie and deception
Hegemonized- lost- sick of hunger
Pathologized- TRUTH the only medication
Unconscious he is with thirst growing stronger
But, egregious- incorrigible or glib
It’s all he finds- the chronic liars
The consummate and congenital lie lay down deep
Inveterate they are unconscionable buyers
He’s finished his search in Athens
Hope’s alive! The hill thus flattens
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