there’s someone who needs to be met
for business to be transacted
tension mounts but we do not fret
in this dream by God enacted
O, Villanelle Villanelle! Thou who rhymes
so well with “little bell,”—whose lines amount
to nineteen, a prime that works every time.
Thy two refrains permit no theft or crime,
yet throughout the end-rhymes repeat and count;
O, Villanelle Villanelle,—Thou who rhymes!
Rain or shine, in calm or tempestuous climes,
thy song swells and falls of its own account
to nineteen, a prime that works every time.
Thy grandioso tempos build and climb,
then culminate in the ending's dismount;
O, Villanelle Villanelle,—Thou who rhymes!
Thy strict form is not for all paradigms;
for everything's transacted less discount
by nineteen, a prime that works every time.
And when refrains together go sometimes,
thy chords take on a sound that's paramount;
O, Villanelle Villanelle,—Thou who rhymes
to nineteen, a prime that works every time!
And when refrains together go sometimes,
thine chords take on a sound that's paramount;
O, Villanelle Villanelle,—Thou who rhymes
to nineteen, a prime that works every time!
A golden day like this is worth money,
it was dusk but seemed like morning.
An auction to attract the highest bidders,
the fading day,
and the rainbow too sold out its colors…
I watched the clouds as they transacted,
in a hurry, and the bats passing to get contracted,
hence more gold but was departing…
The trees in their still and without moving,
until lightning flashed,
the wind then go for the brazen day,
as the disturbed thunder grumbled, at evening.
I will have the clouds whipped till it is raining,
the winds now whispering like children wailing,
the night passed and day in the making,
a golden day like this,
should be worth a lot of money…
Mere means of being master of all labor, this power
Overthrows all virtue, and write the metered history
Nations spin web in web, and now it is the cocoon hour
Emerge the spider on spindly legs from calyx tragedy
Yelping bankers and their merchants billed for all wars
Consumers credit lost, money minting on us its scars
Ruined trust in men awake us to being pawns of greed
Economy after economy in goldless tatter and its shame
Dies, drizzle, toxic in resuurection the fawned at weed
Industrialist used to circumvent taboos in the blind game
Trapping with historic dream the energy of men stagnant still.
I come not to Zion yet but old Jerusalem in desert sand
Sighing at the prints, O garrulous the nail marked hand
Debt and deal transacted, the calyx shrivels in winkless sun
Orbituuary of Babel's history, Mammon's feathers unwaxed
Nature in sure cycles recovers, wind breaks the spider spun
Emancipated faith confronts the Ceasar, ransomed and taxed
Miracle of consciousness re-wired
Beyond the physical plane
De-materialized, reconfigured webbing
Teases my canopy's netting
With no feet, message travels
The Mind of Time
Attracting this resplendent huddle
To make a living
Livelihood's muddled
As yet,
But wait!
Mercury puddles
Promising
energy transacted
A fate never to late
Be among Gospel materialized
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