What is one more word?
Among the vortex of voices
That fuel the conscious storm.
Above the din and the Socratic
Winds, silence is born not heard.

They come then in the fall.
Just before the russet sunrise
Adorned with skies of gold.
They come with gifts
And promises,
Tales round fires to be told.

Some oaths shall be broken
While others shall be sold.
As stars collide and planets fall
The wanderers return,
Gathering up all they have learned
They strike out into the world.

Spontaneous yet flexible
Confident and malleable.
Able to go with the times
And go with the flow,
Finger on the pulse
Presentations to show.
Laser pointers and
Laser printers
Pressed for time.
Nothings here
But what here's mine.

Climb over colleagues
Through Ivy leagues
And Redbrick universities.
Shadowed by a letter.
A,
B,
C,
D?

"And extra-curricular activities?"
"Literature?"
"Theatre?"
"Ah...well......I see........."

"......Well....there is an opening.......
.....Not great hours I'm afraid.....
.....But the pay is competitive...............
...Beyond the market rate......."

An inward sigh and a signature.
Uniforms and moral aperture.
We do what "must be done"
And whisper other soft lies
While we hide from the Sun.

We fight over what we want
At the expense of what we need.
Crippled by whims,
Lashed by whips of greed.

Love, compassion.
Food, water
And shelter
After a fashion.

No Falchion will safeguard our walls
Until we know what they are for.
No cheap parlor tricks , No following a flag
No cheap death, No bugle call.

Rigging taught and water bilged,
Sails snap stubborn in the face
Of Gaia's force.
Sailors gripped in terror forlorn,
Sailing round Tierra del Fuego,
Cape Horn.

Limes are long since rotten
And the *** is watered down,
At least three men overboard
Shot to depths where all will drown.

The captain stands to lose his crown
Cursing into the storm.
Cursing at the ocean wall
And the day that God was born.
Tacking starboard long into the dawn,
He releases rudder and draws his Sword.
As if the world his steel had hindered
He grabs the wheel and turns to windward.

The lessons in school,
They come not in the classroom
But in the playground.