Long Blaze a trail Poems
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To his Hungarian Jewish village, Moses returned
Atrocities were dismissed, his warnings spurned
He described Jews buried in ditches, gave details to persuade:
Agonized children, naked corpses, but the villagers were not swayed
Moses was diagnosed by his listeners as mad
He shouted, "Listen to me", but the wall was ironclad
He asked, "where are all the people who went with me west"?
But the Jews who listened, failed the "tolerance test."
The "tolerance test" is, don't dismiss out of hand
Don't blaze a trail if you don't scout the lay of the land
Entertain the proposition, look for details to disconfirm
Beware the snap judgement, ask, test, so you can learn.
A man came to warn Swiss Jews of genocide
They thought he was a propagandist, so he committed suicide
There is an essay written by a bitter Jew, Koestler was his name
He wote "we were dismissed as maniacs, we warned of the spreading flame"
To get photos out of Poland, some people died
But nine out of ten Americans thought witnesses lied.
British intelligence too couldn't bring themselves to believe
How could lazy heuristics so many deceive?
Finding the truth is not always an arduous task.
Sometimes it can be as easy as courage to ask.
Evidence can be ready to be assembled in your mind
Match up your clues and the answer you may find.
Truthtellers may be dismissed as lunatics, others as extreme
Some as paid-off liars, some as on the other team
There may be too many assumptions that have to be overthrown
Interpretations thought out of context, or overblown
Sticking with what your already know might be too seductive
Your logic might be good, but your model too reductive
A puzzle with missing pieces might never make sense
Unless you get off your chair and look for evidence.
A false idea of virtue can override what's real
Go by what you see, not just what you want to feel.
Some of us live in bubbles, caused by years of indoctrination
This makes it harder to trust sources, have a conversation
Koestler said his recurrent dream was being murdered on the side of a lane
Walkers talked and laughed, didn't hear his cries as he was slain
There are many misdiagnoses, mistakes, some drastic, some mundane
Let's make an effort to derail that deadly train.
As I go through a jungle field, I blaze a trail of tears,
and a war path of torture I tread. I keep trekking through
the mind-fields of life where little relief is certain. That is,
until I remember that September is coming. I hear her humming
in the distance and praying for me to hold on just a little bit longer.
Sweet September, my rock, my anchor, retriever of the battle scared
souls and those forced to pay high tolls. When I am spent and sold
and every bone seems to have been broken, I hasten to remember
whose team I'm on. Then I recall, and reenergized from the stall,
from the weariness of it all, I rise from the fall. September is coming!
She knows me by name and by sight and raises me from the blight.
Worn and torn with blood, sweat, and tears from years of conflict and woe,
I see September. Seeing September, now just ahead, hope rises from the
deep and sweeps me into her calming and strong arms.
082822PS
He puffed the magic dragon
Till he was ninety-three
And frolicked in a smoky mist
Beneath the ganja tree
With little pipes and papers
He loved to huff and puff
It made him think such silly things
And munch a bunch of stuff
All red-eyed he would travel
With puff deep in his pouch
To blaze a trail thru rain or hail
Or tatered on the couch
But then one day of sorrow
He could find no puff no more
And from then till the morrow
Was jonesing on the floor
Without his lifelong friend
He died lonely in his cave
Tho everyone that knew him
Laid sticky hops on his grave
Now he puffs the magic dragon
Above both you and me
And frolics in a smoky mist
Beneath the ganja tree
In days of old the poets told a tale
A scout rode out to search the unforseen
To gather food and drink, to blaze a trail
A pious nobleman, charged by his queen
He was a fearless man and very wise
Outwitting those mistaking him a fool
His principles he would not compromise
His creed of life, "Obey the Golden Rule"
For many years he rode and sacrificed
His health and wealth, yet never one complaint
His pay for services grossly mispriced
They mourned him in the end, a selfless saint
The poets often cried, the tale so sad
His queen decreed henceforth,"He'll be called Dad"
Daniel Turner
Thank you Dad
Some hide their heads
below the parapet
Not challenging the times
When faced with social uplift
They fail to rise
When we are fighting
Taking a stand
They disappear in the shadows
Never to lend a hand
They think they are OK
In the scheme of things
But in a sudden change of fortune
Tragedy is forced on them
There are no safe grounds in crisis
When we are faced with pain
In the currency of life that confront us
Where freedom is denied
We are on the battle fields of justice
Answering ancient cries
But in nonchalant indifference
Those who hide behind the parapet
Would rather watch innocents die
Some hide behind the parapet
With no wishes or designs
To forge a new togetherness
But to pursue a selfish mind
They say that the ties that binds us
Is cast in the winds of time
When we create a consciousness
When we develop a positive mind
There is always a Judas
In each and every band
With 40 pieces of silver
Out comes their outstretched hand
For as much as we seek justice
They are used as tools
To be bought and sold
to the highest bidder
Just for a pot of gold
There are soldiers
That blaze a trail
Not seeking self virtues
Nor personal gains
But are caught up in a movement
From which humanity gains.
Rugged, uncompromising and independent!
Unfettered by rejection and scorching sentiment!
Autodidact, Philomath and valiant quotidian debutant!
Confident enough to blaze a trail, ever unrepentant!
Ever untarnished, dauntlessly volitant!
Infectant, epatant, a true combatant!
A Benevolent dawn, nonfraying ever extant!
Be a lone wolf to craft an ever-reminiscing ballant!
Word Reference:
Volitant: having the power of flight
Benevolent: genuinely wishes other people well
Fraying: worn out at edges
Extant: still surviving
Valiant: full of courage and not afraid
Autodidact: someone who learns every day through own efforts and experiences
Philomath: a lover of learning and studying.
Debutant: making first appearance
Quotidian: happening every day
Scorching: parch a surface
Blaze a trail: to do something that has never been done before
Rugged: strong, determined, having the ability to cope with difficult situations
Untarnished: not having lost its lustre
Ballant: to write a ballad
Reminiscing: to talk about pleasant things that happened in the past
Epatant: startling or shocking, esp through being unconventional
Dauntlessly: incapable of being intimidated or subdued
I catch a glimpse of you in summer deep
Your auburn tresses floating through the trees
Where at the sight of you a willow weeps
And throws her golden leaves upon the breeze
As you almost bring me to my knees
Your beauty filling me with such desire
As I turn my back on summer as she leaves
Spellbound! As you set the world on fire
I watch you wake the maples from their sleep
Burning cleaving leaves, I watch them bleed
As slowly and quietly you creep
Over meadows and fields of grazing sheep
Leaving your silhouette on the creek
As your flames grow higher and higher
As I follow, not knowing where you lead
Spellbound! As you set the world on fire
I walk through ashes falling at my feet
On a path beneath a golden canopy
And look out at where earth and heaven meet
As you blaze a trail in front of me
Onward through marshlands cattails and reeds
I see your breath rising from the muck and mire
In a rainbow of liquid crystal beads
Spellbound! As you set the world on fire
Lost between desire and melancholy
I rest a spell, my body grown tired
And lay myself upon the dying leaves
Spellbound! As you set the world on fire
~~~
Author: Elaine George
Written: September 3rd, 2013
(Dedication: For Ann, the love of my life, who walks with me smiling. Thank you.)
Opt for a path that observes life's pulse and play,
Deeper and clearer as experience vivid,
Etch a present moment fragment in plain stay.
Sense oneness in all nature speak so candid,
Emotive knowing as beauty now reveals,
Etchings and markings of truth and sheer magic!
Here in this moment watch miracle appeal,
Align heart, mind and body to glimpse fine view,
Image and idea juxtaposed in factual feel.
Keep watching as stillness reveals to you,
Urgings of natural wonder that unveils,
See the world change in a fragment deep within you!
Now moments fling messages to blaze a trail,
Open your heart and mind to embrace belief,
Words only capture a mere fragment unveiled.
Seek to go deep within where silence achieves,
Enter a continuum that whisper hints,
Embrace a journey gift that calmness receives.
Mind and matter and motion and stillness mint,
Encounter a passage where miracles hint!
Leon Enriquez
08 Mar 2014
Singapore
These shifting poles, I sit and ponder.
As flocks of birds fall from the yonder.
But I have dirty clothes to launder.
I have no time for this.
Some Beetle's killing all the trees.
and something's swatting swaths of bees.
But I have to take care, or my pipes will freeze.
I have no time for this.
So cows eat corn instead of grass.
Some heavy metals in my glass.
I'm in a rush, I'm late for class.
I have no time for this.
On Fossil fuel we so depend.
In 2012 the world will end.
But I have frozen drinks to blend
I have no time for this
These things, they come as no surprise
As we blaze a trail to our own demise
As I sit here writing, I realize.
I have no time for this.
When morning comes and grass is dewed,
one looks beyond the window's view
The crimson sky, announces you
You spread a warmth, with revelry,
You take our breaths, you awe the eyes
Old friend, possessor of the sky,
you tint each cloud while passing by
O' morning friend, O' rising sun…You never fail to come !
Over the rooftops, over my lawn, over the crest of early dawn
Warming,………greeting,…………….skimming along…….
You come each day, to blush my face, your gentle fingers know the way
From morning’s path, long past noon, from east to west, a well worn task
You race across the time and space, an ancient clock, while keeping pace
And as the twilight comes too soon, you blaze a trail with redder hues
And ‘tho I know how soon you’ll go… I wonder why I miss you so…?
My brilliant friend, O' setting sun, it’s time to wave a sad farewell
I wonder why, when fading dim, you play for me, a sadder song?
Yet, still I’m here, in silent awe, to watch you burn away
Slowly………fading………………………………………gone
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