Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 22
Does the fault lie in us or in warring gods
Paragon Bard of Avon beg pardon
Do stars exert a force not owned by bards
Do stars grow heads of State to confuse gods
The trust we hoist high on flags flapless groan
Does the fault lie in us or in warring gods
He who blows horn for his god usurps his Lord’s
The Enlightened One begged us leave Him alone
Do stars exert a force not owned by bards
How many who blast themselves for their gods
Their holy books’ basic tenets condone
Does the fault lie in us or in warring gods
Let not religions parade on public roads
Prayer in the soul’s a private union
Do stars exert a force not owned by bards
Teach infants at school all about the gods
Till parents all know truth about religion
Does the fault lie in us or in warring gods
Do stars exert a force not owned by bards
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Categories:
flapless, political, religion, violence, war,
Form: Villanelle
MOTHS ON THE WINDOW PANE
Like abandoned waifs
Their faces at the window pane:
Big eyes and flapless wings
All pale and colorless
Out in the dark night,
Silent witnesses
Staring into my life
Listening impassively
As you quietly explained -
You had met
A new face and wanted
To be
Free
To be
With him and
You were leaving me -
My heart was crushed
And throat was choked
As I stared out
Into the silent blackness,
All pale and colorless
With flapless wings
Abandoned.
Categories:
flapless, romance,
Form: Free verse
The Challenger and Columbia are gone
And you alone of the trinity
Awaits the end to dawn
Not far to go
Old crate,
Not far
At all.
The old rheumatic wires still delay
The flapless wings
A little leakage of some fluid there
A little sputtering of tears
The body is the same
Just like every sandy shore
Time wears thing away
Do you feel the constant pumping of desire
The thunder in the heart
To explode the boundaries of light
And search the crevices of dark
And yet
Each arthritic morning wheezing comes
Strapping us to bed
How far have we gone
Since we walk the moon
Yearning for the kiss of mars?
Love is a strange emotion
And just for water
We tried to blow the moon's world apart
I understand the tragedy of the moth
Not the death of the flame.
O dearest,
We will be launched again
When the storms of life are past
We will forever dock
To the station in the sky
And you and I immortal then
Shall have no more questions
Why
Categories:
flapless, imagination, life, mystery
Form: Verse