Category Archives: Ballast

“With Abruptness”

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“With Abruptness”

With abruptness comes the uplifted fist, a draught of curt cessation
Of hostilities. Enter parados, the tenuous hymn, a nervous truce enforced
By dreams that hearts cannot discern nor in the discourse
Is it possible for speech to register a plea. Listing on a sea of abnegation—
Content, superfluous ballast—the stuff of odes leach sadness
In the breach for fear  that smothers
Second thoughts, shuns advice and admonition and all evidence on the floor
withdrawn from all others.
Comes a welling of selflessness for simple gladness
Sealed in radiant acquiescence, futures steeped in martyrs’ crimson inks
at first stirrings of anagnorisis. Here dwells dull
But conscious resignation to what appears to be defeat of all mottoes
Writ in luminous capitals: “The Thing’s Not Working!” And in the grotto,
Then, the chorus spells the penultimate invocation; the last bull;
The space between the lines, in turn the very eye of so vainglorious a day:
“This cannot come to good! Fools react where wisdom merely prays.

“Furtive Futures”

“Furtive Futures”

Furtive futures, tokens of the late night flower
And as he smiles,  a common thread of thought, some random
Virtue and its knee-jerk negative recusal form régimes, their regiments set neatly in tandem
Each day with time enough to feed the guests between the hours’
Harvests. Memories posit foibles calcified from past
Proposals of support and action in what was always just around
The corner. Patience, saddling his ass, object to wastes grown profound
In almost every instance with innocuous verses that running circuits last
In time while losing time defines itself in terms of time, itself, and nothing stops
The show unless a rare and casual kindness from a stranger to  the flock,
Or simply not who or what must have a right to be. He views what’s on the dock’s
Consignment nd recalculates the costs of baggage and accessories; the rock,
Within remains the same, of course;
witness, yes, but still  he is both what he is
.
and as he was before he found his tests
To he the very meaning of his every breath; a gift, a bounty, an eternal yes
is there, but nothing closes close to closure. There is no subtle hint of rest.