in a yellow woods
i chose the path less leaf strewn
as beauty still clung
reds and oranges mixed
browns swirled in last minute
as autumn breathed
Oh, overseer of precious population
waterkeeper
'tis
wastewater
&debauchery
Mentor of well being
&human aid
our youth dying,
away with immunization
prominent denier
medicus defiance,
aegrotus, the child,
mentor what is your alliance?
even when he’s cut to pieces,
a true warrior is one who fights for a cause
he never abandons the battlefield
when injustice becomes law
resistance becomes duty
a true leader leads with strength
& compassion
this one hides & denies, lies
his soul they buy
ruling with his ancient alibies
how can you protect us
with helminths of your own,
our fate in your hands
what is this that commands?
conveyor of danger
binger of skepticism
& lost cause
begone, bygone
you are not,
food for thought
(“Enemy of the State Merit Badge”, 2011, original oil)
- Ship of fools, on a cruel sea
Ship of fools, sail away from me
It was later than I thought
When I first believed you
Now I cannot share your laughter
Ship of fools -
Tide so high, the fleet just sails on in
Like at the beach of Normandy
Only now it’s no liberating force
But a farce of laughing mothers
Coming to claim what we now value
So cheaply as to have no worth at all
Wave after wave they come
Laughing all the way
No care for customs, no care for culture
Just here for the hand out
A little anchor in the storm
The storm that rages the whole world round
Let me into your homes
Let me into your schools
Let me into your halls of power
Because they are all mine now too
The whole world together, united
In this ship of fools.
(7/1/26)
( author of: "Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance" + "Lila")
_____
Love is the engine of "Ingenuity". Robert Pirsig's "Quality Metaphysics" begins with the 'Moral Imperative' as art and engineering translates from psyche to laboratory - from the artistic Heart to hand.
This is the blindness of modern science (Subject/Object Metaphysics) when asked what "Dynamic Quality" is. it is The Perception Of Quality As Translated Between Those Two Mediums.
.
the creek is quiet, mossy
phantoms surround inlet
safeguarding all who visits
a lonesome eagle overhead watch
me strike a match _____ flame
dies in cold breeze
silent is vast sky
slowly life appears
chameleon on sediment
gecko peeping
fire I try to kindle splutter
gasping for breath ~
orange tongues appear
god’s original juices
consecrated ibis lands as if
sent from Nile where I drank
waters centuries before
sweet solitude filled with
memories of pharaohs
chariots, hieroglyphs
inlet waters fill voids in mind
I’m inconsequentially cosmic
egyptian geese descend
estuaries flow through limbs
nurturing blood …
_______________________
Placed : 5th : Premier Contest
Sponsor : Brian Strand : May 26
I would often wander through the Tate
walking round the galleries and halls
admiring all the portraits
pictures and artwork on the walls
it was almost quite the hobby
then a painting I espied
of a proper Peeler a British Bobby
arresting is not denied
corporal punishment is implied
I admit would you believe and have to say
the stripes on his sleeve were a giveaway
but I was unfamiliar
with the artist responsible
as the vignette was neither a Sargent
and yet no more a Constable
encountered in the experiential
draft to drift and incidental
tangled shoelaces, untamed minds
delve and tease, see what we find
divine direction, you are the flow
gather me up, I wish to go
no back up if lose all trace
I'm unabashed by what we chase
curl and spiral, wrap me in reeds
submerge, nurture, sow the seeds
overcome and utterly entrance
thrill by thrill a delicate dance
I see your thoughts, you see through me
evaporation the lock and the key
I'm safe, you're sound, the code is stored
of tangents as yet unexplored
some absolutes as we lay spent
minds opened though nil bad intent
capacity is judge and jury
no will or blame or complex stories
who you are is who you might be
the disillusion is that we're free
Should you spend St Patrick’s Day in merry old Derry
Beware of sheepdogs so smug and contrary
He swears he’s Irish, he’s not!
He’s just an old English sot
So toss the cur, drink up, and get your dog some therapy
Two roads diverged as they often do
and at the fork a skeleton lay -
a traveller who stood and thought it through;
as around his feet the bindweed grew.
He stayed too long to choose a way
Seeing both paths equal - foul or fair -
I wonder how his thinking went
that had him starved and rooted there;
caught in vacillation’s snare
until his life was vainly spent.
We may say this fool deserved to die;
this ignoramus had no wit,
but for God’s grace stay you or I
who do not lack the Lord’s supply;
for decision has faith at the soul of it.
I shall be singing this by and by
somewhere many ages hence:
two roads diverged and it was not I
who made no choice except to die
and thus show God indifference.
What young damsels strive to make us safe in our home?
It's Bondi and Gabard and Ms. Kristi Noem.
Barbie Bondi's sleek tresses; vanilla chrome
The fair AG's brilliance dims not in twilight's gloam.
Our femme fatale Merlin makes grave crimes disappear
So many rich predators have zero to fear.
Staunch Telsi Gabbard, raven hair silver streaked
Cloak and dagger quirky devilry so readily leaked.
Your boss barks jump, and you jump to conclusions
Giving credence to all his cruel twisted delusions.
To DHS ICE Queen, Ms. Kristi Noem I shower elation
For her fashionista elan and prevarication.
You stir up our basest instincts, Ms. Noem
So to you I grudgingly dedicate my poem.
The roads I never followed
In the crossroads each of the paths stare at me
One directly leads to success
No lessons learned of hardships to overcome
The other curls and winds around the dense forest
Rocks cover the path and bushes hug the air
Yet the others cry darkly
My feet throw me toward the barricaded road
Thorns tear my skin and rocks trip my steps
While the other goes straight, it is full of fake things
That road I never followed shines brightly through the wooded path I endure
If I were to walk down the meaningless path it would kill me
But now I am running through my clouded visions
Running for my future beyond this road
And running away from who I was
Ode to Robert Frost
My carriage wheels are deep in snow.
My horses head is hanging low.
The hill ahead is hard and steep.
The hay and home is heaven though.
I hold the reigns and do not speak.
He knows the way to hay and sleep.
There’s nothing I could do or say,
To sway him more than wagon squeak.
He sees our house across the way,
With plenty cold to make his play.
He cuts across the neighbours yard,
Knowing I feel old today.
He’ll save a mile after dark.
And with fingers cold, to hold is hard.
He knows that I won’t disagree,
With supper stewing on the hearth.
I drop the reigns to let him lead.
My hands, they hide in sweater sleeves.
The barn is warm, and there’s and mare.
It’s just beyond the cherry trees.
It’s there I’ll leave him cleaned with care,
To sit upon my rocking chair.
His heavy harness taken off,
Along with both the boots I wear.
Scarce thought held I for angel's hearts, though oft touched by their wings.
Sure the mind stays fixed from mortal parts, while to you an angel sings.
Then light pours down from heaven above, through virgin forest crown.
And long last seen through haloed love, the weary heart lays down.
And long last seen through haloed love, the weary heart lays down.
Chorus:
I'll never break your heart.
I'll hold it as the fragile rose, whose petals ne'er shall part.
I'll never break my vow.
I'll hold fast 'gainst the ebb and flow, as strong then e'en as now.
I never will break down.
While crimson'd cataract course these veins, I'll stand upon my ground.
While crimson'd cataract course these veins, I'll stand upon my ground.
Red lips told me, "'Twill break my heart, if ever you take your leave.
Should worldly 'fairs tear us apart, fair Heaven forever would grieve."
Then place your trust alone in God, ne'er mindful of the rest.
While angels tread that hallowed sod, to you my love is blest.
While angels tread that hallowed sod, to you my love is blest.
CHORUS
And I never will break your heart.
The course is lovely, hills are steep
But I need a steady pace to keep
And miles to go–I must dig deep
And miles to go–I must dig deep
Quiet as a mousie studying the route
Praying proper prep is not in vain
The best laid plans of marathoners
Might lead to disarray
Race day ending in grief and pain
At the expense of joy!
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