Miguel de Cervantes
wore women's panties.
After writing 'Don Quijote'
he shaved off his goatee.
When and how
did we see chivalry last
or is it now
a thing of the past
and honour among thieves
is no honour at all
while beating my brains
against the wall
besting the dragons
at City Hall
am I wrong in thinking
it's my fight
or am I errant
as a roving knight
exhibiting gallantry
within a crowd
of apathy
indifferent
to the powers that be
outnumbered and outgunned
Sancho when needed oh where is he?
With apologies to Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra (1547 – 1616)
(Fighting windmills is the story.)
A fantasy to escape the fall, the void of all
Reality is not that tall when on the horse
Stories plunge the young into the light
Truth stabs the heart once in the hour glass
No one dies while riding by Quixote
or with him either
His lance is stronger than the day is long
And when the book is closed, we know
All of us are braver once we’ve saved
The grave, for another day, to wait
To turn just round the corner made
Edges sharp, much sharper than the blade
*Authors Note: Don Quixote of La Mancha , or just Don Quixote (/?d?n ki?'ho?ti/, US: /-te?/; Spanish: [do? ki'xote] (listen)), is a Spanish novel by Miguel de Cervantes. It was published in two parts, in 1605 and 1615. A founding work of Western literature, it is often labeled "the first modern novel" and many authors consider it to be the best literary work ever written.
The mind indeed is a wondrous thing
it has so much fully retained within
therefrom schooling years to old age
but no matter what it's tainted with sin
Only God can deal with such a state
His judgement alone will have its day
to escape this plight requires a sacrifice
only Jesus can be this perfect offering today
Ink that flows so sweetly has no blot
learn well with your pen a voice
speak with real insight and right
guide your pen so make a correct choice
Remember your tongue flows from your mind
enabling the pen to purposefully write
all that's in your own little grey cells
use it so others may know some new light
The pen is the tongue of the mind
speaking with your ink not a blot
let it flow like a long Mississippi
words to encapture your fire on the spot!
(Quote:
"The pen is the tongue of the mind")
Miguel de Cervantes ( 1547-1616)
"Scratch, Quills of God". Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
Rhymes scream like cats and wriggle out of
my arms. Words hide and sick. The stanza’s end
comes to dead-end… Oh, devilish standoff
of plans and pens! The spirit leaves me and
unfinished sonnet bleeds. The crumpled piece
of paper and another one… Why would
I write at all? What in the hell is this -
an intellectual sick, a fad, a good
way to increase a self-esteem or just
a sublimation of repressed libido?
Or maybe I crave fame? A golden dust
in spotlights, Mr. Nobel, the tuxedo,
etcetera…
Alas, the cause is quite
conspicuous: a quill cannot but write.
7/4/2019
Writing Challenge 2, November - A Poem Meaningful - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
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