The Chihuahua’s spectre holds no great respect for persons;
Howls and growls his vowels at high and low alike, and stands
His ground against a world that must retreat. His consonants demand
Attention even of the greatest battery of vocabulary. The phrase thus spurned
Learns quickly that even if withdrawal for the moment wins,
These syllables tire easily of petty games,
And, yielding, go their way; interest wanes,
You see, and comes again the senseless peck at heels and shins,
The unabated chutzpah, the vicar of prolixity, the heretofore
To the other side, the space above, the all
Or nothing victory of the hundred glottal fricatives. Heed his call,
My friends. He will prove the greater in the war,
Because he prides himself on having nothing but himself to wager,
The short but sweet ambition or the long but safe advantages
of nothing minor to accomplish and evidently nothing all that major.
Posted in Animals, Dogs, Hubris, Lyric Poetry, Poetry, Sonnet, Strife
Tagged Chihuahua, Existence, Lyric Poetry, Sonnets, Tragic Flaw
“Did You Think…?”
Did you think it pays to read between the Holy Lines
That spoke with outward-bound and bonded particulars and austerity
In eloquence to which the gray-scale decibels of earthbound clarity
Speak volumes if only to the ears of dogs or elephants; defined
Somewhere between the womb and coffin, clearly signed
Within the matrix, nothing; to all else
exquisite in the melody of choice, metonymy
In fear, perhaps, but action put to wind chimes, pure and unrefined divinity
To souls of children and the penitent in prayer, yet the object undefined?
Within composts of saints and poets supernal senses are recused, none refused, and far beyond, their Prophets,
Hounded and reviled within their own brief imprisoned span,
The single particle becomes the raging legion
in cycles newly framed in paradigms
So far from what was or seemed to be convenient both to litigants and followers,
All concave mirrors turned to Truth. Their attentions birth
as the premature in understanding puts the match
to kindling fires of corruption in the land.
…Yes; even the word holds sway in beauty just as be and come and go as always in concert with all beauteous words seem to hold some affinity to one another that begs for more; it is the glory of affirmation; negation is its inverse holding fast to less as nothing seducing while it shuns to die as though to love is somehow related to a force of hatred amongst the other sovereignties and prerogatives of antithesis, and, while integral to physical existence, are nevertheless peculiar to this world only and can draw no conclusion beyond the present natural illusions of form. Such fellowship is its own demise as is all that occurs in the material universe.
“The Midnight Hymn”
[ 1844 A.D. – 1910 A.D.]
Oh man! Take heed!
What does the deep midnight say?
I have awakened from a deep dream.
The world is deep.
And deeper than the day remembers.
Deep is its suffering.
Joy is deeper yet than heartache!
Suffering speaks: Begone!
All joys want eternity,
Want deep, deep eternity.
Posted in Action, Affirmation, Antithesis, Denial, Dogs, Elephants, Fear, Fire, Hubris, Light, Matrix, Poetry, Pyrrhic Victory, Thesis
Tagged Lyric Poetry, Sonnets