As
Fast
As a Falcon Flies
Pere-
Grine
Fastest bird alive
Tracks
Three
Objects with one eye
Sharp
White
Feathers, tucked to fly
Brown
Tail
Strapp’d down for the ride
Sharp
Gold
Talon avicide
Bloody
Dinner for his bride.
Boys
are dumb
I was one
I sat upon a
Rocky Mountain
shale slide eating
lunch with my brother
And sister. A logging road
As the likes my parents loved
To drive around on. I sat upon
A slide of shale that went down
For a while. I thought what fun it
Would be to slide on down that mile
and so I listened to my will and let go.
Down I went at quite a clip, wound up below
Terrified, I realized the error of my ways and began
to cry. “Dad, Dad! help me!” and down he came a bound
he sprang to my rescue. “Are you alright?” he said with fright
“Let’s get out of here.”
Write me something
Make it quick
Make it quicken
Make it thick
Phat with meaning
Pierce the soul
Get right to it
Start a scroll
Share your story
Tell a tale
Paint a picture
Be angry, yell
Just do it, damnit!
Give us your words
We’ll run the gamut
Beautiful to absurd.
Yes, write me a poem
Write it good, right it bad
Present us with something
Mad, glad or fad.
“Are you done with this?”
When we
were out
on desert snow
Up top
our fair
equestr’an mounts
We saw
A lone
Ghostly Mustang
Upon
the hill.
Whiplashing mane
White
Like snow
It flows
flurry over muscle
Watch’d us
ride by
then off
with a stride
Chasing after Freedom
A Place without a People is Speechless.
You and I have both known men
Who didn’t know their fathers
And in the end when daddy
dies their ship’s afloat no anchor.
I am a rare and fortun’te one
To have a father I’ve known
Throughout my life, for good
for bad who kept the lighthouse on.
So many stumble in the dark
No hand to guide them through
Your faith, your light against the void
You always knew what to do.
Yes, we are the rare and fortunate ones
to share these times with you
May we pass on just a little of your light
To those who need it too.
“How may I be of service?”
As I have been going through my recent practice and development of form, you will see a recurring capture of language. To some it may sound like I have some love for the cliche. But, I am drawing from William Carlos Williams here. I want to document the language. Capture the most common and local forms of reference. In my case that’s a southwestern mashup of red neck American English and Mexican Spanish.
I assure you it is intentional and if it’s off putting, good. Then, I’ve got your attention. Place without people is speechless.
Clip, clip
Snip, snip
“Don’t say that”
Stop, stop
Censorship
“Cut the crap”
On lips
One slip
Could reveal me
Know? No!
Say so
Better, not free
Hide, hide
Words words
“That’s a wrap.”
Censure
Can’t say
Lingual mind trap
Say we
Do, well
Then we’re through:
“I’ve heard just about
enough from you!”
Upon coronation the mandate was clear, find all the poets
Remove them from their posts, burn their works, make them ghosts
Metron was the first to be taken, his home burned to the ground,
A forced capitulation, his family, his staff were removed from town.
Each Officer of the Arts were hunted down, all their counterparts
And supports were taken to deport to the ramparts
On the outskirts of the cities. No one who made the claim
That poetry and drawing are superior forms of knowing are the same
As traitors to the Republican cause. The Rhapsodes
And bards were locked behind bars. Their episodes,
Their similes, their grandiose plots and tragic themes
Were to be shelved like volumes of books or reams
Of paper for the printers press now shattered like the tattered
Dreams of Authors with no magazines now silenced on all matters
That matter to society. Banished under the watchful eye
Of the most trusted of the Guardians who would not cry
For they are ruled by philosophy, not the tears of poetry.
“They said it couldn’t be done!” Proclaimed Tiresias
“That Democracy was the only way for The People, that Platos’
Vision was too bold, the remedy too harsh to swallow
Yet this day has come and the tides of the fates have turned.
In the words of Socrates, ‘We will recite this argument of ours
To ourselves as a charm to prevent us falling under the spell of a
Childish and vulgar passion.’ Today we make Philosophy
Our King and with the wise council of our Platos we shall
Rise to the challenges of our people with wisdom of the Fates
Not the madness of the Muses. We present to you
The very best of the New Academy – The 5 Oracles
Of the Socratic Society and your Council of Kings
The Mathematician, The Philosopher, The Gymnast, The Scientist & The Musician
May their wisdom serve the people. And now One who needs no introduction
Let us hear from the Master himself – The father of our Republic – Platos!”
“People of The Republic, let us welcome our wise and illustrious Council.
Raised as the Guardians and sworn to rule by wisdom, Your Philosopher Kings!”