As the wars wore on, the bodies were counted.
Generals and privates, ideals undaunted.
Faces with eyes unable to see,
Turning away, fearing to flee.
*And the drums rolled on
Boom Boom Boom*
Wrinkled old men cursing the wars,
Squatting on knees unbearably sore.
Starving young children, bellies distended
Praying for peace when all wars have ended.
*And the drums rolled on
Boom Boom Boom*
Windows and doors broken and boarded.
Vision of riches jealously hoarded.
Windows and doors bordered in gold.
Words of obscure meaning by liars are sold.
*And the drums rolled on
Boom Boom Boom*
Proud tall trees, symbols of might
Stripped of their beauty, alone in the night.
Spiders in holes, hermits in caves
Escaping the wars.
But who will they save?
*And the drums rolled on
Boom Boom Boom*
Plague in the cities, stench from the rot,
Kills all the honest, feeds who are not.
Churches and parks forgotten and lonely.
Beauty and love, uselessly homely.
*And the drums rolled on
Boom Boom Boom*
Dancing in graveyards, singing of wealth
Satan’s disciples bring only dark death.
Rising from evil, blackening the sun,
Clouds of the wars that can never be won.
*And the drums rolled on
Boom Boom Boom*
Black hooded monks ringing the bells,
Tell of the death, the hatred, the hell.
The four horses speed on, their hoofs tear the ground;
Their riders are grim -- their destiny bound.
*And the bell tolled once.
Gong
and stopped.*
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
For those who wish to change the world
for the better,
It is well to remember the relations
between right and wrong.
For if you wish to add a right
you must also add a wrong;
And if you wish to take away a wrong
you must also take away a right.
For their relationship is such that
one does not exist without the other.
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 6:11 PM UTC
I am the wind of thought
that flows through time.
I am Homer and Achilles
Sophocles, Shakespeare
Verdi, Ibsen, and Williams.
I flow through the generations,
following imagination,
leaving dark Chaos to rule the past.
I am Zeus and Hera,
And deeper, Mnemosyne
Ananke
and
Chronos.
I flitter it seems as I pass
from moment to moment,
memory to memory,
soul to soul.
I am
Cleopatra, Jenny Lind, and Jolie
teasing, singing and dancing
to the delight of the Muses
I am Jesus and Buddha
Epicurus, Epictetus
Even Chinese too.
I am Descartes and Newton
Einstein and Plank
Math and logic
Love and hate.
I am God.
I am the wind of thought that flows through our minds.
I am the wind of thought that flows through our time.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 7:55 PM UTC
I watched some crows this very eve,
Play upon a blustery, early November breeze.
Wave upon wave of those corvid beasts,
Now going west, now going east.
Now rising up, now darting down,
Now racing east,
Now tacking west.
No sailor on the seven seas
Can tack so well as one of these.
Now up, now down
Now left, then down.
One flies north
Another south, then darts east.
Yet flock drifts by despite these feats.
Another joins in synchronous dance
Then up, then down, then back again
Waving together till parting perchance.
Then each alone, up,
Then down, then back again.
Some stall for several ***** and blows,
Remaining still to trees below,
Then a feather's twitch
Banks into the wind
And soar, ...... soar, ..... soar,
Soar away.
Down a slope only birds can know
Racing faster than the wind
Above the trees below.
*It seems so wasteful, this fighting of the wind,
Futile and vain as a skein does not.
It's not hunting, I think, nor ***
Except perhaps for showing off.
But I suspect play at play.
Jonathon Seagull's desire, it seems
Infects these playful playing memes.
Perhaps I see play where there is no play,
Projecting wishes onto senses.
But corvids do play, it seems.
Do you too so seem?
Perhaps they even dream.*
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
***Come in, come in my friends,
Let us talk of gods and men.***
*But I must warn:
I ride the dragon Confucius cannot tame.
We soar on winds the Buddha cannot calm.
I frolic free on Jesus’ throne;
Secured in stone of my Olympus home,
Whose whence and why I can not know.*
***So come in, come in my friends
Let us talk of gods and men.***
*If you come to teach and learn,
Come in, come in.
Let us share our common yearn.*
Else go away so as not to waste my time with God.
August, 2011
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
***This summer I saw mountains
Thrusting out of the sea,
And mountains mellowed with age,
Rounded, softer, quietly returning to the sea.
I saw Redwoods: massive
Majestic, alive,
And marveled as I held seeds
From which they thrive.
I wondered at hands that could be so old
As those that carved the living stone
In rocks by the sea;
I stood in awe hundreds of feet
Beneath blankets of branches
Of ancient trees.
I listened as mountainous streams
Sang songs of the sources
Of life-giving waters.
I saw flowers too many to name
Running up and down grassy hillsides,
In and out of pine-scented forests,
Along rivers,
Through meadows,
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.***
*But why am I telling you this?
Because, of course,
I must prove I am free,
That I can see beauty
all around me.
But it seems
The less I feel free,
The less beauty I see, and
The louder I shout, “I am free, I am free”,
The more I scream, “I see, I see”.
It’s all a game,
You see;
you see.
I just try to follow the rules.*
August 1, 1970
(edited 10/11/2014)
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC