Vanity – No Talent For Certainty

Manywheres

The evil people do
Is manywheres at play;

It hides in power suits,
And seeks to rule the day,

But time’s a referee
And knows not foe or friend:

So power has its day,
But that day has

Its end

Cabinets

Who is it that we were,
And what was all that work?

Our one-day someday dreams
Are now met with a smirk

These cabinets we used
Are laughed at through the view

That vanities are fine
As long as they

Are new

So Familiar

A life led by blind desire,
Lurching toward the funeral pyre

Happenstance spun into meaning,
Private times spent posing, preening

Strings of words on worthless air,
Tableaus struck with no one there

Emptiness and vanity,
Sheltered by insanity

Carved from cells once formed by bliss:

So familiar

All of this

(“So Familiar” – 10-23-2014)

beauty, solace, wealth, and fame –

beauty, solace, wealth, and fame –
these fight out a lethal game;
greed and envy sanction hate,
rich to poor, or wan to great.

glamour, passion, toil, and lust:
idols turned to ash and dust —
beauty, solace, wealth, and fame:
gain the wind, but lose
your name

Picture credit : Yung Chao Chen

Her Father’s Vineyard

Within the vineyard of her honeyed youth
The red wine flows through long and draping vines;
From sharpest grape it runs to sweetest tooth,
Down where the soil and the sun combines

To bring about a type of miracle.
A marvel that she’s not thought on for years:
A thing that’s not the least satirical,
A sober thing of ancient engineers.

For light and flippant are her thoughts these days,
Of vanity and life amid the stars;
The latest trend, the hottest fashion craze,
And all the best of nightclubs and of bars —

She stops and blinks, a teardrop to conceal;
Within her father’s vineyard, life was real

The Enlightened Ones

Not knowing / anything, really

The only symptoms that we see
Are those expressly chosen for our eyes

The diagnosis we arrive at
Has been shaded and shaped
By clues deliberately dropped there for us
And even more by what hasn't been shown

So we recommend treatment
Not knowing

Anything, really

Not the nature of the disease
Nor its real symptoms

We have no hope of finding a cure

And we genuinely, fervently believe


That we are the enlightened ones

The Pride of Lucy

Lucy sat out in the sun
In cold and clear September;
She modeled for us her new life,
I always will remember

The pride she wore upon her face
As she soaked in the rays;
Not knowing pills and Crystal Head
Would soon cut short her days.

The pride of Lucy, young and full
Of beauty and its power;
The sharpened razor blades, so cold,
That hacked to death

The flower

(“The Pride of Lucy” – 12-27-2015)

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