"solon" poems
Among all there is a wholesome son.
His name, we feel pride in, Shauryan.
On 20 November was the jewel born.
So precious that all want him as a pawn
But parents not ready to give for scone.
Without looking at him there’s no dawn
Chess playing at different levels is on.
All are sure of his ability family to conn
In a perfect direction without any con.
He is the best known and virtuous icon
Wishing best for his overall solon.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 11:14 PM UTC
My dearest sister has a son.
We call him dearie Shauryan.
Healthy, wealthy and pawn
Of parents, demanded scone
For eating in evening or dawn.
Chess playing at state level on
Till nation or inter forgone.
Never is lazy, never is con,
Is the best known icon
Wishing best for solon.
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 11:12 PM UTC
For Henrietta Swan Leavitt—
Henrietta
dark-eyed darling of the night sky--
A Swan
who sails
the heavens
deaf with lights
that pulse across your mind
In photographic plates
that number
many thousands
You see the differences in light
You swim the curves that grace the arch of heaven
between the cloud and pinwheel galaxies
You measure
their exquisite wakes of distance--
Become the glittering timepiece of the farthest stars--
Bestowed forever in your hands
the clock and keys of all existence
You know the bends of ages
You heard the voices of the light
of the angels
and of man
I hope you've found true happiness
gathered to your love
forgetful of the pond of space and time
and all that hopeless pain and counting
of perfection
and of loneliness
to which you were assigned
that in your hands unravel all....
The secrets of the universe
white and gray in motion...
brilliant beyond all measure
by which you were forgotten
and unvalued by design
Eulogized only--
as loving God
and as being kind
___
*copyright Liz Balise 2019, Use only by permission.
Her colleague Solon I. Bailey wrote in her obituary that "she had the happy faculty of appreciating all that was worthy and lovable in others, and was possessed of a nature so full of sunshine that, to her, all of life became beautiful and full of meaning.”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henrietta_Swan_Leavitt
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 6:57 PM UTC
Finding clutter and cable chaos,
two forms
of proof
for the orderly mind
to insist my approach
to harvesting and preserving my take away, no use
in spirit and
in truth, if you follow my idea, abstracted
from
all the time there ever was here
when we arrived, empty
as far as we knew, with our acquisitive
child recollections, as
to how we come
to think we know, less and less
finer and finer interpretations
of harmony
among Same and Different minds,
allowing odds and evens and pi and e.
-and -i- the I defying form of little I
square root of one.
Left, right, clap.
Chirality, Front and back, top and bottom.
- clapping games of all the ways,
- one hand can clap another.
- Just so we learn,
- we make things take time to do
- just right.
But some times, one impression's all we get.
Think fast.
Six ways to rest upon, Cubism,
arrives first among those who see edges
of blocks in the solid limestone formation,
"O Solon, Solon, you Hellenes are never anything
but children, and there is not an old man among you."
Mar 14, 2023
Mar 14, 2023 at 5:51 PM UTC
war is starting, a blood bath but drains no blood scar’s beyond repair kills whats most important ,sounds of a crying conscious asking for help a louder and darker voice choking those who ask for savior, how can i? how can i?, darkness what have you done, should i serenader to hell, is hell the answer to my freedom or is my twisted mind who is controlled by the lord of darkness, Homer, Aesop, Hesiod, Sappho, Solon, Aristotle what should i do? i beg, lead me to find a way to get my conscious stronger lead me as you led heros, fill my heart with courage as you filled thy, battle of the heavens or is it what we call a weak alibi to stay in darkness.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 11:48 AM UTC
Lyrical Poet of Greece
flowing like gentle breeze
Born in island of ******
like dawning sun she beautifully rose
As the time flew
desecrating winds blew
leaving mere fragments of work
one complete but mere sixteen lines
So little is known for certain
Yet it does not discourage me to pen
Let this poem be a spark
let your curiosity leave a mark
She crafted words into a mystic Shape
once read there is no escape
She wrote of fragile personal moments
of her daughter and her female friends .
Even Plato acknowledged her beautiful lines
He even said these following lines
"Some say the Muses are nine: how careless!
Look, there's Sappho too, from ****** the tenth"
Solon an Athenian ruler heard her song
and wanted it to be taught along
when curious faces asked Him why
he replied "Because I want to learn it and die".
Her Face was was minted in coins
Portrait painted on vases
Syracuse honored her exile
by erecting a statue
showing words could transcend
her gender in the people's eyes .
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC
*I hear a voice calling,"Christopher",
Sounds like my dad,it can't be,but I wish it were.
A memory relived while in a ****** up blur,
Stretch out arm to cat,I feel a comfort in its Solon purr.*
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 5:01 AM UTC