“We’ve Been to the Mountain”
We’ve been to the mountain; we’ve seen the other side.
Elephants, no matter how little time apart,
Greet loudly one another, trumpeters in the lordly arts
Of proper nouns, like Persians in their Naw-Rúz pride
And passion in the ancient annual Spring-tide’s
Boasts amongst the pronouns, the years’ arrests in arrears,
With all the false and withered premises, weird
And natural bond together, yes! The ides of zodiacs abide
With such amazing grace, their verbs will override
The wholes of months that each, their seasons call
To order, seize opportunities where none exist at all.
Who is’t gazes into mirrors on these walls? “’Tis I”
Say all! Who then answers whom as they leave these rooms
And who beys at whom as they stand before their moons?
Posted in Abyss, All or nothing, Childhood, Chimæra, Circumlocution, Circuses, CNN, Consolation prize, Crito, Crucible, Denial, Denizen of Hell, Earthbound joys, Education, Election 2016, Elephants, End Times, Ephemeral pursuits, Lyric Poetry, Mammoth in the room, Maudlin sentiment, Mayhem, Negation, Poetry
Tagged Lyric Poetry
…painting by Kyle Ragsdale…
“The Balm of Blame”
The balm of blame relies on shame
While fools amass in cloisters; clowns, their terrors
Grouped in choirs as with fires sired in hell. Errors
Come as natural as breathing, while their eternal flame
Afflicts the every man, and cannot be concealed.
How, then, does the crown not fit
As when in the thick of smoke and mirrors bells peeling
Not from above or from the side but fulgent, sealing
Heaven’s signs in record time, the eyes, the gait, the every gesture
Bold prophetic witness as the Eastern Prophets’ Word is echoed in the West,
Their lights snuffed out in increments that underline the tortured tests
Of wills and structures of the Occident in bulging bank accounts–sequestered,
Belching fallacies–metered by the hour that all but scream for want of closure?
Yet, the line is long and longer for ambient mists of deft exposure.
They will not hear the key left limp at latch–the entrance
Or the exit; they cannot see the rising
Or the setting of the complaisant star, its restive analysing
Of the land and sea at midnight, the telling glance
Of creatures who stalk their prey in the foyer of the edifice;
The temporary seating exceeds the number of the tombs is evidence
Enough that in all creation few defy the mirage; the fence
That must divide the space above a phantom’s presence
Of this planet from the gaping hungry star-filled void
Of all that passes for imagination.
Connoisseurs of matter taste
Nothing but the venom of the fang in hours of self-defeating waste:
That posits purpose in pursuit of the outrageous, they speak of decoys
And photographs in place of simple memory and obsolescent joy.
Posted in Appearances, Bank account, Bells, Blame, Celluloid, Closure, Connoisseur, Decoy, Denial, Double Sonnet, Duplicity, Ediface, Error, Everyman, Fallicies, fancy, Fire, Flame, Havoc, Heaven, Hell, Imagination, Joy, Key, Land, Liar, Logic, Magesty, Materialism, Mayhem, Memory, Mirage, Modernity, Moon, Occident, Poetry, Prophets, Samsara, Sea, Star, Tomb, Waste, West
Tagged Existence, Lyric Poetry, Sonnet, Sonnets