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The blacksmith works the iron ore
with tongs and hammer on anvil’s brow:
Within his forge’s fiery core
grows metal soft, with carbon endowed.

The coal turns grey, much like his beard
drawn out by age to wiry lace —
a silver mine that roughly rears
from his craggy quarry of a face.

In his chest, the same fire roars,
a molten furnace fueled by air
****** in by bellows, lungs engorged,
then exhaled in the bright sparks’ glare.

The chimney of his mind is filled
with sparks that dance, a glowing throng,
arising through his thoughts that thrill
to the rhythmic beat of his anvil’s song.

Reflected in his clouded eyes,
mixed in with soot and sweat and toil,
the steel sings out in joyous cries,
its notes ascending to a boil.

For though the years have dimmed his sight,
he sees through the smoke and flame. He knows
how he will find fulfilled delight —
when he with music his craft bestows.
Inspired by watching a blacksmith I saw working at a Christmas market recently.
Ken Pepiton Oct 25
Come, discern, focus,
conceive the two degree wide,
two said sounds wide, two words wide
agon, we call the mindspace, now, in time

agged into efforting conception, we hold each
a seed within ourselves, and we have been lead
to believe we learn in real time, while we digest

suggestions from the environs, while we why away
another reason war has used to make hate, articles
of faith, he who does not hate is father and his mother,

brother, did you take the oath,
the one at a four square baptism, didja?

So, you are pretty sure there is a hell to shun,
and one unrepented will to ill treat a living liar,
such as all men just happened to be, because,

and you know its true, because
the bible says Paul read in on a…

Ode to Zeus, factcheck me, I'm good.
no liar shall enter truths spirit will
to make up minds used to making peace
in terms of loving push and pull adverarial
wonderous chaotic beautiful rushes,
or thunderous clouds of sunset joy,
during latter rains, each year.

There it was on the way into the Agon,
where mottos enforce mental engagement,
- a royal society motto,
- take no man at his word, science proves
- true the admonition.

citizens must be readers ready to read the omens,
and the letters all spelled out in Delphic chance,
to those initiates in service as translators.

As your scribe, dear patron saint, what
would your holy other than usness say to us,

as we inquire in spirit form, mere thoughts,
from words another feeds us as we think?

It is the symbol of the curious, the wise serpent,
most honed first guess, right, answers sworn
do tell, as ever before becomes thinkable,

we can imagine humans building Machu Pichu,

crow-lee squacks, waddayathankftat.
an ion on a quest, I guessed. Trusting a wild idea
Ylzm Sep 10
the world rejects sorrows
for happiness can be sold

whereas sorrows lead to life
happiness naturally believed

even within mortals' reach
hurrying to seize is thus life

with wits, strength, and help—
willing or not—for time is short

if death undefiable, it'll be mocked
for you shall go smiling to the grave
Zywa Nov 2023
You hear the echoes

of guides everywhere, despite --


the signs 'Silence Please'.
Mausoleum Taj Mahal

Novel "Midnight's Children" (1981, Salman Rushdie), chapter 1-4 "Under the carpet"

Collection "Low gear [2]"
Zywa Nov 2018
I entered the display case
of people educators
subsidizing snobs
the multirich and companies

among tourists and inhabitants
who want to be seen
in the museum café and
with sophisticated pastry lard
the conversation with careless clauses

they quote from an authority
whom nobody has to understand
to get the intention
of the praised artists

The shop was crowded
Spotlights on show-pieces
fancy coffee table books
and chic presents
for the season and the next holidays

Especially the past
is on sale, postcards
of the attractions
and sights of the city

interchangeable
like the collections
which graduated stylists
cast in international moulds
to magnets for visitors
Collection "The Yellow House Museum"
Zywa Dec 2022
The farmer has cows,

some poultry with a watchdog --


and holiday guests.
Collection "NightWatch"
Isaace Aug 2022
The grey lines etch
Her eyes, her mouth and her hips.
A blade makes contact through the fine, stone mist.
Stagnant,
Sanding down the beating end of a hammer,
Trapped shapes appear,
Revealing new ways to approach
Her eyes, her mouth and her hips.
My Dear Poet Mar 2022
I’d trade my heart
for your mind
My touch for your eyes
My soul for your love

Yet never, my mind for your heart
My eyes for your touch
Or my love for your soul

For how then shall I
Ever know you
Ever see you
Ever love you
My Dear Poet Jul 2021
I’m selling my heart
for what price do you think?
what money cannot buy
just over a drink
nor gold can even try
take me drunk while I blink
cash for a promise of a lie
with a smile and a wink
but a trade of hearts
and you may have deal
you can’t beat a better bargain
so let’s shake, It’s a steal
Fair Trade
George Krokos Dec 2020
Result of trade war
between U.S. and China
- corona virus?
_
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