A traveler in ancient Greece
traversed a broad town square.
A bottle of mead was waiting there.
He considered the flight of geese,
and those brimming honey-wine kegs.
He was, at first, at quite at a loss,
until, he thought, "I'll go straight across,
avoiding the triangle legs".
How far did go on the path not bent?
Our traveling friend (Pythagorus)
invented something for all of us,
and we know how far he went.
A poets taste buds are a lonesome place
When threatened by alien interface
One must strap in for emergency brace
To sample the menus thrown at our face
Hey! hi! recipes can never outshine
True creativity's rare soulful divine
Of course, one may pair with fine vintage wine
After ten long sips - all will be just fine
As knowledge advances, we shirk the test
New ingredients won't bake like the rest
Let's savour on a la carte and invest
On a tasty PS trophy contest
Hey! hi! Here to boil, to chew and digest
An acquired moot taste my tongue doth protest
one is not enough
two is infinity found
pairs are plausible
whose work is this, you think you know.
you’ve watched them develop, watched them grow;
they stare back from the mirror pane &
get inside you, festering in your brain.
the tools are used, the pen it writes,
the brush it paints, the keyboard types &
between those dreams you illustrate
are nightmares fought off
as
it grows
increasingly
late.
s/he brews the coffee, s/he pops a pill,
s/he smokes a joint, s/he gulps down her/his swill---
this project upon which s/he pours energy
is what keeps her/him in tact, it lets her/him
breathe.
this work is “lovely, dark, and deep” &
far more important than any sleep,
so do what you love & do it cheap
so do what you love & do it cheap.
Phonetics of oblivion
Sheathed by plausibility
Elapsing cultures with ease
Fathering quaint illustrations
Daring to be discovered
Along fearless avenues
Embellished by the fences
That compose the verses
Of which we refer to as life
There's a stiffness in the wind
swallowed, muffled, antique air
recirculating all to bare
so let us now begin...
There's a storm in summer sun
broken glassed and rumbling still
breaking you against your will
the reckoning's begun...
There's a whisper in the breeze
hollowed, suffered, trembling voice
you have it now, it is your choice
but suddenly you freeze...
There's a shudder in the lake
rippled sadness afterthought
wrapping 'round the stiffened heart
summer chill and absent quake
'till suddenly, you're wide awake...
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