“Amazing Grace and Little Wonder”
Amazing grace and little wonder who
It is that for a bowl of soup will squander future space and sovereignty
For a moment’s roaring respite; whose the chilling ring of casuistry
Devours precious primetime dinner hours on fecund ferial days. Few
If any fruits are plucked as potpourri for monumental business gambles
Gaining mastery of the blinding present, yes! perhaps, but whose the futures,
Fortunes and logistics strewn throughout the Milky Way with vouchers
On the run defined by wine and fine cuisine served with soundbite scrambles
In code for ever-mystic fiduciary streams, desiccating brooks
At source that damn the costs and swelling columns in the ledger?
Preferences, then, will legislate toward the whim; they pleasure
In the hidden barb, the ensemble, the purple caveat; the subtle lethal hook,
The crocheted will and hubris that, matched with folly,
supports acquired taste in all-consuming pain;
One need not wonder when and where the markets’
blisters will amaze, but if the boils’ll ever drain.
Posted in Ephemeral pursuits, Federal Reserve, Fiscal cliff, Imagism, Law's delay, Licentiousness, Lyric Poetry, Mammon's glory, Market quotations, Markets, Materialism, Pedantry, Peter Principle, Philistines, Poetry, Sonnet
Tagged Delusion, End Times, Illusion, Lyric Poetry, News Media, Sonnet
…back again by popular demand…
“She Asked Me How I Knew”
She asked me how I knew, and all I knew,
And all of this in less than what it took
To give a sign, and say, “What floor?” It shook
Me up a bit, to tell the truth, but then I view
These close encounters in the light of years
These days, and find that nothing sways me so far off the path
That I’ve lost sight of who I am, and how to laugh.
And so I answered her, I did that thing. And then the tears.
The double-arched eyebrows, the look of terror in her eyes when I
Suggested that between our floors the elevator flies
Too quickly for a studied answer, but not to worry, I’d
Be willing, yes, perhaps, someday on some long train to try. .. .
She took a rain check, though, and said she had to go;
And, when she asked my name, I knew she really didn’t want to know.
Posted in Emotion, Existence, Imagery, Imagism, Lyric Poetry, Philosophy, Poem, Poetry, Samsara, Sonnet
Tagged Existence, Imagery, Imagism, Love, Lyric Poetry, Poem, poetry, Relationships, Sonnet
Compassion lingers late at night when I contemplate
The end of me, the beginning of you, and intimacies
Of both our houses—the camera and the lens—exigencies
To indicate the early possibilities of late
Arrivals and even later beginnings. I cannot hesitate,
Nor, it seems, can you, but as it is what it is, prolixity’s
The trump, the tricks in favour of the heart’s identities
And a pox on all four Suits with Hearts the edge to moderate
What Diamonds cannot hope to do without their Clubs and Spades.
Such auspicious Houses lay the cornerstone of temples
Raised to commemorate all Muses, Fates and Destinies,
Specters of personas, as well, no lovers of souls. Infinities,
My friend, come in time but more often much too late to spare
The aging; abiding, priming, smothering youth in praise and Medicare.
…card design by Undersea-sparrow…
Posted in Age, Aging, Imagery, Imagism, Lyric Poetry, Medicare, Poetry, Samsara, Sonnets
Tagged Age, Aging, Delusion, Detachment, End Times, Imagery, Immortality, Lyric Poetry, Medicare, Mortality, poetry, Relationships, Sonnets, Strife, Tragic Flaw
Three seconds to midnight and some decision
Rests on where the sun lies.
Someone there beyond irrational skies
Says it’s time to rethink revisions
In the rhythm, a shift in keys, camouflaged divisions
In the lighthouse. Seductions blind the eyes
To icebergs in retreat as volcanic sulphurs advertise
The truth and souls prepare for sanctity and circumcision.
Two seconds and again the Star will make His move,
The Prodigal. His flock devoured, He concludes His fast
To claim His bride while tyrants cry, “I cannot breed!”
In one last united choking, all souls that bleed
For freedom like eagles in the heights above prove
The strength of dawn at first and all humanity at last.
Posted in Imagery, Imagism, Lyric Poetry, Poem, Poetry, Samsara, Sonnets
Tagged Ecology, Imagery, Immortality, Lyric Poetry, Mortality, Nature, Poem, poetry, Sonnets, Tragic Flaw
Bahá’ís throughout the world gather this evening and tomorrow within the First Day of the Month of `Asmá [Names]
“Double Sonnet in Honour of the Feast of ‘Asmá [Names]“
Greatness, the gulf of differences between
Recipients of names and the manifestation of the same
In full blown vain imagining; objective oversight’s the flame,
At least the spark any given second. A constant stream,
The crown of transformation comes in time to weave
A gravity within the press of what is never really seen.
Within a name resides a hidden thread that only seems
The confirmation both of life and being—in bas relief
Or so The Buddha warned—that holds a lethal trust. Between the name
And its receipt abide the seeds of pernicious doubt and protestation,
Manifest but without form, no timely attestation,
More an emanation than anything in revelation. In every atom reigns
The distance and sweet velocities of change. The many tools
Of blind belief in Adam’s gift seek rest somewhere within reach of fools
Embracing blasphemy in luminous dichotomies, dilemma’s
Punctuation marks’ delusions born of natural sedition. Litanies–
The beads of faith and understanding–are crystals of epiphany
Drawn from rich deposits deep within the endgames of enigma
And paradox serving providence and the farce of perpetual plebiscites;
Their greatest honour, servitude in service
To unnatural homeostasis between justice and integrity, yearning
And the One for Whom all yearning stems to transcendental heights
Born in mortal time of He from Whom all virtues flow.
And when denial and prayer are in arrears,
When needs and resignation outweigh a sum of means;
Words gone bankrupt erupt and deeds are stripped of fat and lean,
As hopelessness finds redemption in an average skein of years,
With all that overwhelms the truth at sunrise
In redemption in the simple phrase, “I’m still alive.”
Posted in 'Asmá, Adam, Age, Aging, Atom, Blasphemy, Buddha, Buddhism, Change, Confirmation, Denial, Dichotomy, dilemma, Doubt, Endgame, Enigma, Epiphany, Fools, Gravity, Greatness, Homeostasis, I'm still alive!, Imagery, Imagism, Integrity, Justice, Litany, Lyric Poetry, Means, Names, Paradox, Plebicite, Poem, Poetry, Prayer, Protestation, Providence, Redemption, Revelation, Samsara, Sedition, Service, Skein, Sonnets, Sunrise, Time, Tools, Transformation, Virtues, Yearning
Tagged Double Sonnet, Immortality, Lyric Poetry, Mortality, poetry, Punctuation marks, Relationships, Sonnets, Tragic Flaw, Wisdom
Statistics stylised and lionized, lordly compositions
Thoughts, ideas, concepts parboiled—
Spices added after cooking—nothing foiled
In the preparation, superstitions
In a pantheon of presidential glances
At the nightly tea leaves and signs of growth
At noon just beyond the summer solstice. Strophe
And antistrophe aligned, astronomical finances
Support strength and free volition
But to the point, the mark, the target of both censure and attack;
Surely, hamartia strives with hybris in the legal track
From first impressions of a patriot to golden memories in remission,
Seconds in the gravitas of syllables of regret; Obama will succeed
Where Persephone failed: after all, he ate but two or three black seeds.
Posted in Barack Hussein Obama II [1961 - ], Imagery, Imagism, Lyric Poetry, Poem, Poetry, Samsara, Sonnet, Sonnets
Tagged Barack Hussein Obama II [1961 - ], Economics, Economy, End Times, Imagery, Immortality, Lyric Poetry, Mortality, Persephone, poetry, Sonnet, Sonnets, Tragic Flaw
“A Sometime Stain”
A sometime stain; the birthmark of a single name–
Goaded, compromised, spited by the eyes–the microscopic page,
The age and bridge from what is meant to what it is. Age
The pontus maximus is potent but security and confidence are gained
In links throughout a sometime golden chain; the flame
Within the acorn, the seedling; twilights tremble at the larva’s rage
Beneath the unsuspecting fallow field where stalks the future stage
Above in comely spatial innocence and holy abstinence. The same
Reveals the relatives, within the cosmic heart; the absolute
That stations there strays not an aeon’s breadth from bliss—
illusion’s dispensation’s bourn—in what is seen, by whom
and where it lives, and from the gifted earthly womb
emerge the vectors in strengths of resolutes
while covenants among the dead above are born and die
within a single kiss.
Posted in Age, Aging, Imagery, Imagism, Lyric Poetry, Poem, Poetry, Samsara, Sonnet, Sonnets
Tagged Age, Aging, End Times, Imagery, Imagism, Immortality, Love, Lyric Poetry, Mortality, poetry, Relationships, Samsara, Sonnet, Sonnets, spirituality
Conspiracy there is to think; it rains again today.
Summer’s here and’s gone and here and disappeared once again.
Nothing settles in for long, and commitments dissipate.
And who, then, doubts there’s been a change?
Dollars fluctuate and markets soar and no one’s sane
Enough to shed the price of gold; and in the pack―Queen of Spades
Or Jack of Diamonds―are priceless pawns and easy gain
And loss to fools with pedigrees to match the season’s rain.
Fire’s in the West; flood’s, the East; and as for the chatelaine,
The fevers never cease in the station of the gravy train.
And who, then, doubts there’s been a change?
Posted in Conspiracy, Imagery, Imagism, Lyric Poetry, Poem, Poetry, Roundel, Samsara
Tagged Conspiracy, Delusion, Ecology, Economics, End Times, Illusion, Imagery, Lyric Poetry, News Media, Roundel, Samsara, Strife
“So Goliath the Proportions”
So Goliath the proportions, so small the stone
That in the hands of a single upstart
Derail the plan, the science and the art.
Just so, the protocol of all within the home
And in the workplace, and in the greater
And lesser notes of the finest filigree
Or within the bowels of a diamond. Tree rings
Record a tale of atavistic misfits and golden satyrs.
Centuries, as well sign the same glad tune
And as the planet warms and swarms of pundits chant
A melody of surest knowledge, the icebergs rant
And bellow as they roll like rune
Stones in the seas neglecting reassurances
That the truth is one and not expressed in nuances.
Posted in Ebb and flow, Glaciers, Goliath, Imagery, Imagism, Lyric Poetry, Poem, Poetry, Samsara, Sonnet, Sonnets, Tree rings
Tagged Ebb and flow, Ecology, Economy, End Times, Glaciers, Goliath, Immortality, Lyric Poetry, Mortality, Nature, Poem, poetry, Sonnet, Sonnets, Tree rings
“And Who Prefers the Light”
And who prefers the light to fire and lives
To breathe a word of such a thing?
Mark it, friend! To the light, the ring
Of truth; to the fire, smoke and high fives
That will evict the bees and solace thieves
Who take what they want and fling
A match to all the rest in awe of pilfering.
And who prefers the root to leaves,
The trunk to branches as they weave
Their path to victory in the midday flattering
Shadows and the midnight’s scattering
Chorus? Honey’s the proceed’s reprieve
For both laboring givers and easy takers in voices
Echoing ephemeral chance and natural choices.
Posted in Imagism, Lyric Poetry, Poem, Poetry, Sonnet, Sonnets
Tagged Bees, Existence, Honeybees, Immortality, Lyric Poetry, Mortality, Nature, Samsara, Sonnet, Sonnets, Trees