Monthly Archives: September 2010

“Occam’s Rasor”

“Occam’s Rasor”

Occam’s rasor, perhaps, but what else is there
Between the stepping stones, the zeniths, the nadirs,
Putting aside the in-betweens, the shafts of spears,
The road less taken, that one trampled, the toxic air,
The steps that lead in either direction, the fare
Compared to destination, dreams that disappear.
Sooner or later, choice replaces every truth, the fears
That come when hybris meets hamartia? Tares
And thistles abound, the rent, the ashes, the cardinal numbers
Spread themselves among the ordinals and seem to sin no more.
Even so? What of these, the inevitable, the inescapable nemesis?
Step forward and discover the reason for the second step; the emphasis Is on the first? The second? A third? Awake, the final unction’s found in slumber; Asleep, the hours promise the penultimate hour, remembrances of the final door.

“Sonnet in Honour of the Feast of `Izzat’ or ‘Might'”

Bahá’ís throughout the world gather tonight and tomorrow within the First Day of the Month of `Izzat [Might]

“Sonnet in Honour of the Feast of `Izzat’

or ‘Might'”

Judge well, judge fairly, judge the might of any man,
Salutations there above it all, crowned, a name become a lyric,
A word in apposition to all legend; manipulated Pyrrhic
Hero, all ears offending, bending, ciphers in the sand,
Commanding others in a fleeting circumstance with undisputed fame
And powers granted for the sake of a specific hour, perhaps a day, gone,
Fossilised before the melody has reached the page when so easily as on
A clouded noxious day, his specious honour clots, his reign
Is turned to vapours. What remains of yesterday’s effaced from buildings,
as from his body, plaudits once ubiquitous, become but shadows of the sun,
A nothingness distilled from arbitrary fruits of moot achievement
here and there among the shades. No lasting shame nor is there blame,
No action, bold distraction, no final satisfaction spent upon itself in vain
From first to last is parsed so long as youth and strength sustain his every run
Through forgeries and fortunes. Judge this man when he is in the deepest well,
And buried sees his heaven while he knows he lives in hell.