Reckless
when imbibing
He lost his right
to drive
For those infractions
time proscribed
A Poets
D.U.I.
He far
exceeded limits
His influences
blamed
Now doomed to ride
as passenger
In literary
— shame
(Dreamsleep: October, 2025)
Is the artist in me a liar
or the one who lives proscribed
Are my words and deeds in conflict
which to breathe and which to sigh
Would King Solomon have an answer
to this split I often feel
Would salvation hold my name in check
or today my soul to deal
Do excuses, like intentions
pave the way perdition shown
Do the reasons then abandon
idle hope when left alone
Can the spirit claim what time has lost
in its quest to stay inspired
Can the truth once lit inside my heart
— keep all kindled lies afire
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016)
She left at the yawn of dawn
Between fog-densed waking hour
And rain-soused grey morning.
Veiled, her image was laced in silhouette.
She stood behind the fog-rain, a dark
Painting, sketched in black crayons of
Languor.
Her breath, one streak of ink
Of a satanic fresco on a dingy subway.
And the breath of the rain was heavy,
Brewed in hauteur -
So was the world between us two,
Lame and proscribed.
She wandered through flighty directions.
Grouches filled her lugubrious lungs,
Blotches on the sludged track, echoing
Her slouch.
She was one mass of trembling grief.
I was one hulk of ruinous pain.
Between us, the funeral of love.
Threnodies held court on the once soft
Yolk of hugs that sensitized an ageing
Romance.
Dawn darkened with the pulse of grief
Rain pelted the senses held by solemn
Consternations, recreating a fruitless
Void of hollow trepidations.
She lurched and sidled towards the
Crag-lined route, towards earth’s drooling
Beck... and I knew the funeral
Was over.
Sow seeds before green garden ye savour,
Eat fruits of toil and sweat only thy own,
Quote no quotes often chewed, void of flavour,
No garden goes green, not by hard toil grown.
Be it an insight, brainwave as never,
One’s own muse is most inspiring maid known.
For long man, who’s forbidden fruits desired,
Goes on a wander lust such fruits to fish,
Why the Garden of Eden is admired,
Why things proscribed go for greater relish.
It is no sin to get by greats inspired
If you add your own, cook not someone’s dish.
World is the sole piece of creative art,
The rest is inspired, all of it or part.
_______________________
Sonnet |03.03.2009, revised Feb 2025|
Note: This sonnet does not follow the Pythagorean divide between the octave and sestet commonly found in sonnets, but an equal one followed by a couplet resolving the premise.
Embrace
the moment
forever alive
Hell
freezing over
— damnation proscribed
(Dreamsleep: March, 2024)
He was in love, deep, romantic love.
She was standoffish, aloof, above,
no need for pointless ideas thereof.
It was forbidden, like fox and dove.
His clay a gritty earthy mixture.
Hers a sweet creamy marble picture
of comfort, a permanent fixture.
His secret love a proscribed stricture.
So he sat at her feet each long day
writing the love words he could not say.
He greatly feared from her side to stray
lest someone come and take her away.
He searched for the same magic by night
that brought him to life and gave him sight.
Hoping that her stone wings would take flight
and sweep them from this piteous plight.
The loud threats on the doors inscribed
Were from a Union just proscribed
For struggles it bloodshed prescribed,
And for them four Networks subscribed.
A group the men on top proscribed
But still with men she neatly bribed
And to them The Cheating described...
A clique the falsest strength ascribed,
Though parading some fierce scribes,
A lot profiting from mere vibes...
Her threats on doors in each walking street
Merely breathing the Vainly Sweet
Someone has fenced in a portion of the meadow
Laying claim to what Mother Nature has proscribed,
Some folks bring displeasure with absurd bravado.
Is he suggesting that part of the meadow, so described,
Is forbidden for enjoyment by nature lovers like me?
Seems like this certain neighbor has over-imbibed!
Land ownership is only temporary, while nature is free
Here to be enjoyed and treasured by man and beast
Fences are fine, I suppose, saying this belongs to me,
But not to shut out natural areas, to say the least
With no other purpose in mind than to thwart pleasure,
And to deny us enjoyment of nature’s bountiful feast.
Our neighbor needs productive tasks to do in leisure,
It seems he delights in arousing everyone’s displeasure.
Written March 13, 2022
We’re busy all day long with studying and chapter summaries,
we’re stuck in quarantine. Luckily, I like my roommate's company.
We know that we have work to do as prep for upcoming classes,
but we know that it takes more than work to make young lasses happy.
So I talked my roomies into getting, a steak-n-cheese delivery,
instead of working fact-sheets, for our next term chemistry.
Dueling playlists cave-rave from the echos in our suites,
we’re having all the fun we can on opening quarantine week.
Some guys try for invites, like we’re throwing a private wingding,
but those texts go unanswered ‘cause we’re genuinely quarantining.
With the COVID blues proscribed - get that frown right off your face miss,
our studies are on schedule - and it’s time for some serious play !
#university #covid #quarantine #teen
Is the soul to a human
What the seed is to
A dandelion - a vessel
Of the continuum?
Both are readied for winging;
One swept, unknowing, clinging
Upon the vagaries of zephyrs,
One ticketed to sail the ethers.
The seed carries an embryo where’er blown
Prepared by its mother to grow where sown.
The soul by the Father sown, without misconception,
May be redeemed at will from any misdirection.
The seed may rise a weed or wine
As chance may take upon to dine,
If in lawn or vineyard find,
To its fated end resigned.
The soul may be proscribed or saved
As promised by the One who paved
The Way; choose or deny finality
And thereby spend eternity.
Copyright Paul Thomson 2021
The night is warm and her flowers in bloom
A chance to dispatch our covid’d gloom;
Old friends together, our drinks too well known
A chance to catch up instead of alone.
Each chair is placed at the distance proscribed
And each wears a mask as our hostess advised,
Surely, covid here has no chance to spread,
Though no one can hear a word that is said.
We didn’t say to try the Big Nasty Burger-
We said to try the Big N’ Tasty Burger.
We didn’t say to go to the harmacist; we said to go to the pharmacist!
We didn’t tell you to take your ills as proscribed -
We said to take your pills as prescribed.
It’s fine, not fin, and it’s good, not God.
Why are we always just one letter off,
So close to understanding, but no better off ?
Why is it so hard to compare notes side by side and move beyond our pride
And see how just one small stroke corrodes the difference between wrong and right?
“It’s almost time,”
the Angel said
Last image dancing,
in my head
“The gate unlocked,
the pearls alive”
Both wings she opened,
time proscribed
“Just one look back,”
I asked in vain
“All past is gone,”
her voice proclaimed
“Your place awaits,
all time rescinds
My wings your gift,
—now fly within”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)
The foolish rules reign
Enemy kingdoms
Separating a
Love that bloomed between
A king and a queen
Years passed leaving
Deep planted roots
Fueling a
Proscribed passion
Until one
Tragic day
Frustrated
Lovers
Tasted
Bane
4-10-2016
Wonderful wonders woven within wild.
Titillates theatrical tender thoughts
Consistently creation, contrives conservation concerns.
Ecology evolves equations, entitling entities essence.
Empowering equality, enlarges existence.
Life lovingly leases Longevity.
Biodiversity braces, blatant brutal balding.
Deforestation, destruction devoid due definition.
People physically, plundering planet.
Prevalently procuring, products proscribed
Pilfering practices producing poisonous pollutants.
Greenhouse gases generated, generously grievous.
Temperate temperature’s tempers tumultuous.
Creating Climate changes, causing catastrophes.
Planet purges peril predominately.
Preached, placid platitudes, politicians podiums paced.
loved lives logged listed lost.
Lacuna languished, lessons least learnt.
Losing Life lingers, listing leeward lazily.
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