I won't depend
On hashtag trends,
On free lending,
Or poems trending,
Or coupons for hookers vending.

I won't depend
On society blending,
Or relations mending
On wending paths of truth.

Then we're sending rockets,
Bending rules  for Rulers,
Tending obsequious flocks of sheep.

Praise to the sagacious masters
Who tapped into the light
Of ineffable, infinite wisdom
That penetrates the night.
 
Praise to wondrous ones
Who sought neither glory nor fame--
Who opened their hearts to humanity
And remained unfazed by acclaim.
 
Those whose approach to life
Was guided by truth--we applaud them.
May our gratitude deepen
As we gratefully laud them.
 
Surely their noble dreams
Have relevance for today.
Their incomparable wisdom
Casts its light on the Way.
 
If we come to realize
The limitations of the ages
In which the wise ones lived--
As reflected on history's pages--
 
Then the truths of their words
That connect the present to the past
Will not get lost in the details
And fail to endure--to last.
 
With hearts of understanding--
In a manner of speaking--
Let's follow the great wise masters
In a spirit of constant seeking.

- by Bob B

Dreams keep knocking on the door;
daytime consciousness seeing in snatches
just where it was we travelled the night.
Deep fears find their entry, played out
in a macabre scene of real life events
and someone directing a make believe
set of discomforting scenarios.
This could be a nightmare, except
I am not so easily frightened these days.
I laugh at horror films and find gore,
simply clinical.

Receiving the faded afternoon call of salted , emerald tide
Awaiting the first star of the flush maritime night* ..