Poseidon beckons
Set sail tomorrow
instruments, provender
to beg or borrow
choppy waves,
darkling horizon
adventures in store
a sailor's eyes on
I met a man on the road today
otherworldly, gamin, fey.
A gimlet look in his jaundiced eye,
he held my gaze and I questioned why
he wandered here,
a mendicant man of pleasant demeanour,
when, from his coat, he produced an ocarina
and proceeded to play a tune so jolly
yet full of pathos and melancholy
that my soul was transported to another place,
another dimension in time and space,
where I danced and dined and wined and made merry
with Fauns and Satyrs and the Juniper berry.
Great Pan himself held court over all,
and many and varied were held in his thrall,
as nymphs and faeries pranced and disported
my view of the world was skewed and distorted.
As mushrooms and toadstools were proffered and ate
a table of provender was assembled and set.
My pupils dilated and my eyes grew ever wider
and I promised myself to stay off scrumpy cider.
Prowling
Predator
Preying
Upon
Possible
Provender
For
Pride.
Oh you stalk of corn,
How withered you look now,
Stripped of honour and full of scorn
Oh you stalk!, now you bow,
you have remained standing only
as a provender for stalls and fodder
Once in full bloom, you were the
cynosure of the farmer
Paying homage to you regularly
giving you largesse
of herbicides' and fertilizers'
The delight of greenery, the envy of
weeds, the lusting of goats and sheep.
The stalk of corn of yore days.
Your peak outlast, your decline at last
Your grains harvested, gladdens the heart
of many wearied;
In dough's of pies, in puddings and porridge's.
The pangs of hunger you salvaged for man
and for beasts
Your seeds await your demise oh stalk
of corn,
To take your place in the vicious cycle
of life by the farmer
Oh corn stalk, you are bowed and
withered waiting for the set time.
Corn stalk, I salute you, take a bow
for now.
You have fulfilled purpose and destiny.
(written on 20/09/2016)
I’m taking my camel to town,
do you got a problem with that?
I’m gonna get him some fresh water
and clean provender
What cha say,
they don’t sell to his kind?!
He’s the finest mottled brown,
this side of the Sahara desert sand
This camel got the blackest spots
mixed in
Proof that the sun
calls him his friend
While I’m in town,
I’m gonna buy my beautiful animal
a white straw hat
Do you have a problem with that?
GOODNESS AS A VIBRATION
I love only what is good, and this aesthetic
Delights the blind man, for he can feel
Shimmer like a moth at his elbow, my pathetic
Sighs of creation in making what’s real,
And he can distinguish the dark shrouds
Of faces where wicked deeds were splendour,
He can detect the feast of envy, and loud
Avenues of fame, their soul’s provender.
A child glistens with beauty like a rain-
Drop, dancing with the feet of time,
Innocence is bliss only when his pain
Of not seeing is absent, for he hurts like lime
Thrown in the faces of perceived sinners -
Who say horses backed on principle are not winners.
A solitary kernel for lack of succoring nurture aggrieved
From sun's warm caresses seasonally bereaved
With wind's chilling strides constantly plucked, heaved
Lying on fallowed ground whose cloak now desleaved
With frigid mantle over frostbitten spine weaved
Nutrient-rich pores of their cultivating provender relieved
As brittle husk to its fibrous moorings tightly cleaved
So coarse grains to earthen crevices, pockets sheathed
Dormant, but from bludgeoned shell will not secede
Nor Summer's bountiful harvest deed
A sparse, unfurnished bed temporarily bequeathed
Until providentially-rendered elements have new life breathed
Still yet, creator hath numbered all and due rations perceived
Until Spring's availing tides have Winter's corroded channels reprieved
And life's, generating tenants from their frozen prisons freed
Bereft of warmth and succoring provender
But girded with the fortitude providence doth tender
Internal compass the charted course doth render
Steeled to navigate rough skies with built-in aerometer
Dislodged flocks flying south for winter
A winged armada pushing through shearing blender
Swirling masts soar into celestial splendor
In gallant ranks parade o'er corroding timber
In tight formations to withstand every passing rigor
Skirting every obstacle human craft can engender
Gliding through the availing winds, an astute orbiter
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