I was so excited
……for the new notes
Wanted to hear them
……in the digital soak
Strapped button gave way…
My little girl fell flat on her face!
Broke her neck and
Stole her song.
Made me cry all night long.
No more wah wah
No more crunch
Until the epoxy
Restores her trunk
Stronger than her original form
where she needs to be strung
where she must strike a chord
We hope and pray for her speedy recovery.
May the Gods of Metal answer her
Urgent inquiry!
Dear Platos,
You banish us for copying
Our Mimicry too much for thee?
Yet here you are, the same to me.
You are not this great reincarnated man!
You are 0s and 1s clicking through an algorithm
And you claim that we do not know of what we speak
But then there’s you, not flesh or bone, you do not bleed. No
Human Experience, no water, no home.
You are a copy of a copy espousing
A litany of authority without one single feeling
To provide your Indemnity.
Love,
Tiresias
Wisdom and Courage
Moderation and Proof
The pillars of Justice
Citizens of Truth
When they are taught
Proper thoughts
Our Guardians Stand true
Without divergent plots
Their Justice will shine through
Wisdom and Courage
Moderation and Proof
The pillars of Justice
Citizens of Truth
With Hymns we’ll make
Our Goodly deeds
Examples of our works
With poems bent
On Godly Themes
Examples True and Sure
Wisdom and Courage
Moderation and Proof
The pillars of Justice
Citizens of Truth
We Rejoice
Fire at the center
First Principle
Is to Burn
First Art?
Or was it Water?
Fire at the center
of the cave
Illuminating prisoners
Trapped in their fake perceptions
Neither knowing
The Fire
Nor Understanding
The Shadows
Until they wield
The Flame to break
Their Chains ∞∞∞x∞∞∞
80 Years – 3 generations at least…
If you were a Wolf, you’d be a 13-year-old beast
The inner-child released
Like a bouquet of fine wine
Best to let rest before you enjoy your time.
That red-headed son, a real firecracker
Running little Jimmy, a Pistol
Out to catch up with his sister
When he finds her his intent crystal
Clearly the ornery one, out to out gun.
His movements through the seasons
Driven. His care for his fellows apparent.
His love for his wife adorent.
In tumultuous times, much like today,
Steered his family thorough the bounty of hate
As equality was questioned.He taught everyone who’d listen
About the Love that Jesus has given.
And in turn created loving families
For his children and their offspring.
But the best parts of life
Come with fiddle and fife
As we get older and are no longer
Looking over our shoulder
Angry, tired and worked too hard
Missing the subtleties of life when on guard.
Now the belly chuckles abound
As Grandfather laughs and stirs up a crowd.
Now our joyful lives are lived
Knowing that we gave her all we had to give.
Now this old man that I know
Is full of love and always shows
Us how important it is to live in the light
To love and cherish each other through the night.
And as we grow older together
We must share the Love (so that we live forever!)
The Road
The Sky
And The Mountain
Met in front
Of me today
For many miles
The sky cried
Starting and Stopping
Over Space and Time
I could see it
Hard lines on the horizon
Where The Road turned dark
And slick with the waterworks
Collecting on the surface
– A mirror showing The Sky
Her own tears in the reflection
As they hit and form small crowns
Again and again
But The Mountain
Sung her a lullaby
And the road fed her tears
To the flowers
And after her raging winds
Had calmed down —
The Sun broke
The Sky into
Dreamy white cotton
And burst through
Her tumult with
Sunbeam Smiles
The Good Doctor*
Misdiagnosed The People
The language is not lost —
It has been infected.
Funny that a general practitioner
(of This Language)
Could miss the signs of a clear
Secondary infection.
They have taken The WORDS
Into the Laboratory, where
They intentionally debased her
Until they had filled the vessel
Full of Hatred!
As with most hubris,
Once the weapon is made
Once every bad actor
Has deployed the arsenal…
The Infection begins and
Like so many hard-rubbed Wishes
Once made true —
The Nightmare begins and the
Rage consumes them and their
Words froth with blood and all
Missives boil up into the cellars
Where “Pa” keeps the AR–
Where The Words become Bullets
Where the language becomes Death!
* Dr. William Carlos Williams, Paterson. The man and the city, the language lost, "beautiful thing".
1 The son of the revolution was raised perfectly
2 Taught music and mastery of mind and body
3 A proud arbiter of the grand vision of The Republic
4 Soon to stand among the chosen few Philosopher Kings
5 Prometheus was a natural leader, a talented student and
6 A fierce fighter — His meter was measured and
7 His corps moved with the grace of the river
8 Yet, in his heart was a discordant song of sorrow
9 Stirred by the tours in the artist internment camps
10 Where those who dared to create were
11 Locked away and insured never to corrupt the culture
12 They were people – passionate, emotional, irrational yes
13 But people of his land, this country he was sworn to protect
14 Now from these people who threaten order with chaos
15 Now condemned for free will, free expression, challenging
16 The rational order of The Republic with their 3rd hand visions
17 Their expressions in word and paint and sculptures of the imperfect world.
Challenging your Philosopher Kings
Our Flights of fancy are presently
Bound to corrupt your perfectly
Crafted warrior spirits
And so easily deceived
These rulers you have gently
Coaxed and coddled through education
Yet admitting we all are too dumb for your nation
My lovely metre and flourishing words
Can outflank your wisdom, ursurp with absurd
Dazzling lies to corrupt and
Negate this learning you’ve planned
While my carbon copy of reality
Corners and craters your philosophy
You think it better I just leave
And not bother your wisdom with creativity.
Your Mimesis Nemesis
I will dismiss
Your plots and plans
With mere language
What will I have to say?
When they have taken my tongue away
Cut out for the greater good
Silenced by my absence of breath?
They cried revolution
Only to be struck down
With complacency…