The world is full of resonance Of loving echoes ringing; The birds still try to tell us this, If we but hear their singing For sound can glitter in the air, And make the sad soul glisten — The world is full of resonance, If we but stop To listen
She feels the summer Taking all Her wandering cares
Technology’s a fickle thing, In case you haven’t heard: We master things when we are young That then become absurd — It happens to us everyday, But we’re still undeterred: We always think what we might know’s The last and final Word
The clouds, like us, seem made of naught but dust: We travel over hard and rocky ground, Through countless miles agitated strife, Then pour our dirty selves back down to earth, As ash to ash, and dust to dust, indeed. The clouds, like us, chaotic and obscure: We tangle in each other, slipping out, And …
Continue reading "The Clouds, Like Us"
If you can still tell That the earth is turning, It isn’t time yet To stop changing
Social realities Common dualities Made from societal modern modalities Hoping for Socrates Stuck with banalities Tortured by habit and anger and lyme disease Cherries we pick and then stack into piles Hidden by marketing image and smiles Alibis heightening Chains are all tightening People who jump at the first sign of …
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There is a history, untold, Of paradise and passions bred; And so we spend our living days Among the houses of the dead Beneath the selfsame sky they knew, We walk their paths, and feel their souls: For all that was, is yet to be, And written on our own hearts’ scrolls There was a …
Continue reading "Of Paradise"
Uniformity In thought and look and feeling Conformity In action and in word Atrocity That’s overlooked, or sanctioned Capacity To swallow the absurd Mendacity In reasons for our reasons Opacity: To hide what’s true or real Complicity – Acceptance of what’s evil And paucity In truth to what we feel
A person. A voice and a viewpoint; But more than a genetive text — Heredity writing the first draft, Experience writing the next — I’m not sure how much is of choices, The things that we do or do not; The number of chapters uncertain. But all of it’s part of The plot