"phaedrus" poems
PHAEDRUS WHERE ARE YOU NOW? WITH GREY LOCKS
AND LUCID MINDSET WHICH THE CRADLE ROCKS,
WE KNOW YOU, LISTEN TO YOUR TREATISE DREAM,
WHICH CAN NOT BE MET BY NOTHING AS IT SEEM;
PLATO MADE YOU CRAWL WITH TRUMPETS BLAZI NG,
LEFT YOU SPEECHLESS, STARING, ONLY GAZING
AT WHAT WAS NOT THERE, GONE LIKE A LOST SONG,
NOUGHT WAS THE SAME SINCE YOU CAME ALONG,
AN AGEING INCUBUS WITH LITTLE TO ACHIEVE,
YOU WOULD HAVE US ALL JUST WANTING TO BELIEVE,
THE SOPHISTS WERE ALWAYS RIGHT BUT YOU WERE WRONG,
ABOUT THINKING, ABOUT LIVING, ABOUT ANYTHING;
THE CLASS LEFT FOR THE DAY HAPPY AT DEPRESSION,
THERE WAS NOTHING BETTER THAN LISTENING TO YOUR LESSON.
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 6:57 PM UTC
A diamond of perfect clarity and flawed .... Less
Is more
Uncut or not
Refracting light imperfectly
Through my I am
Perfections
Wit
Less
But less is more
You halfwit
Half my self
Seeking my other
S(elves)
An uncut gem
Maybe
Or maybe a carnonaceous chondrite
Being formed .... Crystallized
Through unintentional pressure
This is love
And Phaedrus always in behind
Gently pushing from sometimes gently tugging from the lead
Trying to stay in the eye
Of the storm
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
Just imagine that you're standing on a hill looking down
there before you is everything that you didn't own
no one wanted to see you and remembered your song
what you did, the way you conducted yourself was wrong
And yet - there is contrition born out of this condition
even tho the doubters would wish for an explanation
you can't give them one, you are what you've always been
which is a signature in different shades of green
You walked the colonnades and people began to stare
then the whispers: 'You see, isn't that him over there?'
It is no matter - everyone is changed now, mellow somehow
you have to live, try to give, not encounter a silly row
We may all be together again - the way I have returned
and then we'll see just how much we've all really learned
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 2:19 PM UTC
Phaedrus was always there: before and after
In this life and the next there was always laughter
which one was wearing the white robe, it didn't matter
when they came, the crowd would always scatter
'Ah, Phaedrus, my old friend - would you wish to be me?'
'No, master - how could I emulate you and the things you do?'
'But you are a philosopher who travels between civilizations -
I would wish to learn from your soul and inclinations.'
'I learn from the Son of God always - your spirit guides
and nothing hides, even the very core of existence rides
on what you have to say and even what you don't say
beacause you are always with me to this very day.'
'Ah Phaedrus, we shall always meet - see the holes in my feet
and hands, remember them, in deserts and distant lands.'
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 2:56 PM UTC
I strolled out on the lawn and looked at the view
didn't I see Fleming, Steinbeck and Miller too
illustrious company in the fading light
and further, J. P. Donleavy was out of sight
They were commercial, deep, with ****** soliliquy
and down below, J.P. described a strange anomaly
let's write together, fight together like a ghost
when it's done, I'll tell you what I like most
I like Pirsig, Phaedrus with a bit of Zen thrown in
although have to be fresh without being maudlin
now sadness, pathos is a whole new ball game
every time that we write, it was never the same
Sadness for me was alone and different for you
we all agreed to differ as the sky turned indigo blue
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
HE WAS BACK, LIKE PHAEDRUS BUT NOT
OF THIS EARTH, RATHER TO HAVE SOME FUN
FOR WHAT IT WAS WORTH; I TOLD HIM TO
BEHAVE PROPERLY AND LEAVE THE TALKING
TO ME - EVEN THEN HIS POWER WAS GREATER
THAN IT APPEARED TO BE; AN EMPTY GLASS
BECAME FULL, SOMEONE'S WALLET SUDDENLY
HAD EXTRA NOTES AND A NEARBY DOG TURNED
IN CIRCLES WHEN IT REALIZED THAT NO TAIL
WAS VISIBLE; THE PUNTERS WERE ASTONISHED
WHEN A HORSE IN A TV RACE WHICH WAS
CLEARLY LOSING, SUDDENLY STRAIGHTENED IT'S
KNEES AND LEAPT FORWARD PAST THE OTHERS
TO WIN - PLEASE EXPLAIN, I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN!
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 2:27 PM UTC
There is no
calmness
and happiness
in poetry
those things won't
just fit in.
All that's left
in this
is madness
emptiness
and hopelessness.
When Socrates
said in Phaedrus
that poetry
is a form of
madness,
he must
have encountered
a truly, beautiful
mess.
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 3:43 AM UTC
THE RHETORIC IS FALLACIOUS, DOESN'T RING TRUE,
BUT SEEMS GENUINE WITH STRANGE REASONING TOO,
DECEPTIVELY PLAUSIBLE, THE EYEBROWS ARE RAISED,
NO MATTER WHAT YOU MIGHT SAY, HE'S NEVER FAZED;
WHEN PHAEDRUS CAME ALONG, HE SCURRIED AWAY,
HE KNEW THAT HE WOULD BE 'SHOT DOWN' ON THAT DAY,
HE STOOD BEFORE THE GREAT SCHOLARS - SOCRATES,
ARISTOTLE AND PLATO WHO TOLD HIM TO GET DOWN ON HIS KNEES,
WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH THIS MAN? EDUCATE ANEW,
OR LET HIM CARRY ON - WHAT WOULD BE YOUR VIEW?
BUT WHAT IS THIS - HE ROSE FROM THE BARREN GROUND,
HE LEFT HIS ACCUSERS MUTTERING, WITHOUT A SOUND,
NOTHING HAD CHANGED, EVEN WHEN DAY TURNED INTO NIGHT,
WHATEVER THEY SAID, HE KNEW THAT HE WAS RIGHT.
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 8:40 PM UTC