Resonance
Find the Path
I do not sing that only dreaming
makes the poet free,
for he must touch as much life
as other men
and when young,
nourished on opulent books,
nurtured on frustration,
how easy to escape to castles
with spires of fancy.
When the crabby monitor
handles the singer
with ungentle pincers,
waking him
to the twisted ways of man,
look hard, grotesque one
and choose your song,
or seek another place
in this contrived world.
Chance Encounter
In the strangeness of our meeting
eyes lambent, flaming insects
flickering in the night of parting,
loss passed from self to self.
Are you undiscovered?
A continent met for my exploring?
As fearful as a castaway
long inured to the isle of despair,
I dream illusory glimpses
of the ship of rescue.
Indulgence
The old caretaker
of creeping time,
intent on deceiving people,
sometimes disguises himself
and wears a little bonnet
with little wings upon it.
The way to trick a caretaker
intent on deceiving people,
is to trap him in a moment’s lapse
and spin the wheel of time
without his supervision.
Respite
The stranger comes along the way,
sees the children carelessly at play,
watches them with sad and lonely smile,
emerges from his thoughts a tender while.
The stranger goes along the way,
past the children carelessly at play,
no longer watching with that smile
so sad, lonely, but tender, for a while.
Dim Illusion
In many men
the little part, still boy
keeps fading illusions,
that once,
loved and cherished
by a father’s strength,
a mother’s soft caress,
retreated to a citadel
to tend their wounds.
This place of roots
through puny refuge,
haven in despair,
held puissant awe,
until demanded.
Then shutting out the seeker
like temple doors
barred to the defiler,
that song of need
wove unreal myths,
remembered as the past.
Recent Comments