4/28/11
Is patience truly virtuous,
As, through the ages, many claim,
Or does time simply torture us,
In measured days as we maintain?
I find no value comes to me,
Nor resolution as I wait,
And like some virulent disease,
This virtue self-perpetuates.
4/27/11
A fool shall never know himself,
And therefore never once concede,
His weaknesses to someone else,
Nor offer up apology.
Thus, we should nary waste a thought,
On words to sculpt and shape his mind,
A stone, by chisel, may be wrought,
But fool's conceit won't be refined.
Shortsightedness is his defense,
Obtuseness, nursemaid to his flaws.
No argument shall gain against,
A mind sworn to internal laws.
So, hearken not this happy man,
Who lives in self-deluded grace,
Proud of the dark in which he stands,
And strangled by his own embrace.
A fool shall never know himself,
And therefore never once concede,
His weaknesses to someone else,
Nor offer up apology.
Thus, we should nary waste a thought,
On words to sculpt and shape his mind,
A stone, by chisel, may be wrought,
But fool's conceit won't be refined.
Shortsightedness is his defense,
Obtuseness, nursemaid to his flaws.
No argument shall gain against,
A mind sworn to internal laws.
So, hearken not this happy man,
Who lives in self-deluded grace,
Proud of the dark in which he stands,
And strangled by his own embrace.
4/25/11
We must rise up at times when we are called,
Despite the irony that we may sense,
Because we view ourselves as meek and small,
And helpless in effecting life's events.
But even in self-doubting's deepest throes,
Sometimes we come to find belief restored,
When those who maintain hope despite their woes,
Place faith in those who dare to hope no more.
4/24/11
Upon this day of resurrection which we celebrate,
My mind is drawn to dark reflection on the tides of fate,
To wonder on effects of loss and bitter sacrifice,
And weigh one's blessings versus cost of life's unyielding price.
For some now gone shall not return, despite what we would will,
And left for us is but to learn to have our hearts fulfilled,
By what remains inside ourselves of who has gone before,
So as we live, within us dwells their love revived once more.
4/23/11
Indulgence oft receives self-reprimand,
A punishment for gluttony and waste,
A price our rationality demands,
For straying from processions of the chaste.
Yet excess is a necessary tool.
To overreach our means but now and then,
Our judgement cast aside to play the fool,
Allows the patience charged of civil men.
Is not such fleeting lapse a benefit,
Despite the slight regret that it may spawn?
If not for fickle freedoms we admit,
To what dark thoughts might we find ourselves drawn?
The devil's damage that we acquiesce,
Maintains our tenured time among the blessed.
A sunset never tires, although witnessed countless times.
Though blue skies commonly transpire, still they tantalize.
Familiar are the sun and stars, yet often they entrance,
And frequent vistas near and far will conjure our romance.
These backdrop constants never cease to summon wonderment,
And majesty, though they may be an everyday event.
So lives true love, habitual, enduring through the years,
Yet witnessed with enraptured soul each moment it appears.
4/19/11
Today it was a nothing day,
No circumstance of consequence,
No lofty contributions made,
Nor pivotal turn of events.
Just ordinary segments stitched,
Together in dull tapestry.
And yet, I find it fortunate,
That quietness has come to me.
Far better to be unconsumed,
Than faced with frantic woes to bear.
For those today engaging doom,
My boring day is but a prayer.
Today it was a nothing day,
No circumstance of consequence,
No lofty contributions made,
Nor pivotal turn of events.
Just ordinary segments stitched,
Together in dull tapestry.
And yet, I find it fortunate,
That quietness has come to me.
Far better to be unconsumed,
Than faced with frantic woes to bear.
For those today engaging doom,
My boring day is but a prayer.
4/18/11
The tiniest of wounds affect us so,
And ache beyond their scope in heart and mind.
Perhaps these slight offences swell and grow,
Infectious, left to fester, by design.
For if life’s trifles may be amplified,
And pondered by the soul obsessively,
Our deeper injuries may be denied,
Distracting us from greater misery.
Perhaps an unjust weight is thus bestowed,
Upon the lighter pains which we may feel.
The tiniest of wounds affect us so,
Lest we should anguish that which never heals.
4/17/11
A person with conviction can’t be reached,
For he becomes a prisoner of his mind.
The arguments of truth may be beseeched,
But cannot pierce presumption’s iron blinds.
It’s vain to whisper reason or to shout,
For deafness shall afflict the satisfied.
Each time, somewhere, a man abandons doubt,
A piece of wisdom everywhere has died.
4/15/11
When someone tells you they don't like a thing,
It's best if you refrain from asking why.
And if you ask, it's best not arguing,
Against the reasons that they might provide.
Then if you argue, you should not insist,
And force it on them once they've made their case.
Concede your own dislikes, and each man his,
Lest you become the object of distaste.
4/14/11
A telegraph tapped from within the mind,
To warn our paths away from worldly harm,
Electric networks, threaded and entwined,
Protecting flesh through guidance and alarm.
Advising us of varied stimulus,
That consciousness, perhaps, has not perceived,
And every point our fragile skin may touch,
Awaits the cold reply of honesty.
But once our other senses grow aware,
And know from whence a wound originates,
To let it's trauma linger seems unfair.
Should not our pain more readily abate?
What purpose does it serve that hurt extends,
Beyond initial scope of injury?
It may be to remind us once we mend,
The lesson of our own fragility.
4/13/11
Some artificial flowers on a table in a vase,
With nature’s semblance caught in cloth, time helpless to erase.
Its beauty trapped eternally and yet we must confess,
For all its loveliness unfading, still we love it less.
Is it the lacking fragrance? No, sweet scents can be applied.
And clever crafting of synthetics clearly fools our eyes.
What is the flaw of frozen blooms which we cannot forgive?
The curse of that which never dies is that it never lived.
4/12/11
Another year of weighty taxes paid,
And what have we received in equal turn?
Can any of us claim we’re less afraid,
Of loosing comforts, arduously earned?
Has anything discernibly improved?
Is anyone informed or less misled?
Have legislative cancers been removed,
Or do they amplify when aptly fed.
What purpose serve these dues for which we’ve toiled,
To guard this manifold from breaking down?
What use is keeping mechanisms oiled,
When those who tend them leave the springs unwound?
4/11/11
As creatures sleep to bear the winter’s cold,
And gardens keep their seeds safe ‘neath the ground,
I too must be withdrawn and rest my soul.
Until relief of warmer days is found.
Inside a shallow, hollow place to stay,
Where no one shall go follow in my steps,
I’ll weather sorrow’s harrowing dismay,
‘Till I may know exposure from the nest.
When nature’s brutal scourge at last abates,
Perhaps I shall emerge to kinder fates.
4/9/11
Our Saturdays are for the things we don’t get done all week.
We promise all procrastination will be put aside.
But so many distractions turn our streamlined aims oblique,
We must plan next week following to mitigate our pride.
And if next Sunday we should find that nothing’s been achieved,
We'll blame our inconveniences, and obligations met,
Pronouncing, manifestos, of our productivity,
Till all ambition turns to grief and, piecemeal, we forget.
4/8/11
Life shall go on because it must,
And we will wake to greet the day,
We will be strong because we must,
Despair stands not in time's fixed way.
We'll laugh again because we must,
And pleasures still shall be enjoyed,
We'll mourn our friends because we must,
For this as well, we can't avoid.
But life goes on because it must,
Despite our thinking it must end,
And it will go on after us,
When those who mourn us start again.
Life shall go on because it must,
And we will wake to greet the day,
We will be strong because we must,
Despair stands not in time's fixed way.
We'll laugh again because we must,
And pleasures still shall be enjoyed,
We'll mourn our friends because we must,
For this as well, we can't avoid.
But life goes on because it must,
Despite our thinking it must end,
And it will go on after us,
When those who mourn us start again.
4/6/11
A lawyers job is telling us what we already know,
But often lack the wherewithal of truth to comprehend.
And when a name for all our pains is capably composed,
We nod our heads at what is said and feign enlightenment.
The obvious unveiled at last for us to finally see,
And act upon these facts anon, once council is conveyed.
Perhaps the one surprise we realize would be the fee,
We must afford for being reassured when we're afraid.
A lawyers job is telling us what we already know,
But often lack the wherewithal of truth to comprehend.
And when a name for all our pains is capably composed,
We nod our heads at what is said and feign enlightenment.
The obvious unveiled at last for us to finally see,
And act upon these facts anon, once council is conveyed.
Perhaps the one surprise we realize would be the fee,
We must afford for being reassured when we're afraid.
4/5/11
Why does each new day blur into the next,
So we cannot recall with clarity?
Is this some way of blotting out regrets,
And granting ourselves safe serenity?
Is it some callous act of carelessness,
To let the moments fly by unobserved,
Or are we meant to taste forgetful bliss,
Regardless of remorse we might deserve?
I think perhaps we skew the passing time,
So it can be recalled in better light,
Revamped, and re-imagined in our minds,
To armor us against all future fight.
Perhaps the world is seen, and then dismissed,
To guarantee our courage to exist.
4/4/11
Dishonest men will always find a way,
To pilfer that which isn’t theirs to take,
Unless we keep their cunning plans at bay,
As they attempt to gain by our mistakes.
We must be vigilant of those who prey,
Upon our naïve vulnerabilities,.
We must be wary every waking day,
Lest we be victimized by such misdeeds.
And yet, there is what lurks in every mind,
That seeks to earn and then abuse our trust,
As often we will tell ourselves such lies.
And childlike, believe them as we must.
We let ourselves be fooled by fantasy,
And fabricate excuses for each ruse.
Perhaps, we should fear less those who deceive,
And guard against pickpockets of the truth.
4/2/11
How quickly we congratulate ourselves,
When fate delivers us prosperity,
When lightning strikes us in the form of wealth,
When triumph shines by serendipity.
How quickly we congratulate ourselves,
When fate delivers us prosperity,
When lightning strikes us in the form of wealth,
When triumph shines by serendipity.
How easily we let ourselves grow proud,
Expressions of contentment, calm and smug.
When all is well, we praise ourselves aloud.
When all falls into rot, we blame our luck.
4/1/11
The great clairvoyant searched the crowd,
In search of supple minds to read.
His eyes intense with heavy brow,
Like bird of prey intent to feed.
He set on an expressive face,
And thus began to search her mind,
While all the crowd looked on amazed,
Her whole condition was described.
In stunning color and detail,
Each aspect of her life was touched,
Her loves, her losses, her betrayals,
Deep hopes and wishes, all discussed.
But what the grand magician knew,
Which most times we choose to forget,
Is every life and all we do,
Are more alike than separate.
All joy, all want, all loss and pain,
Which we may feel are not unique,
Each person's story is the same,
The tale retold each time we speak.
And so the charlatan's deceit,
Though quite corrupt, shall teach us this,
Our common similarities,
May hold the key to earthly bliss.
The great clairvoyant searched the crowd,
In search of supple minds to read.
His eyes intense with heavy brow,
Like bird of prey intent to feed.
He set on an expressive face,
And thus began to search her mind,
While all the crowd looked on amazed,
Her whole condition was described.
In stunning color and detail,
Each aspect of her life was touched,
Her loves, her losses, her betrayals,
Deep hopes and wishes, all discussed.
But what the grand magician knew,
Which most times we choose to forget,
Is every life and all we do,
Are more alike than separate.
All joy, all want, all loss and pain,
Which we may feel are not unique,
Each person's story is the same,
The tale retold each time we speak.
And so the charlatan's deceit,
Though quite corrupt, shall teach us this,
Our common similarities,
May hold the key to earthly bliss.
3/31/11
We must not gaze at foreign shores,
Afraid of waves which rage between,
Forever longing to have more,
Of vistas which we've not yet seen.
Instead we plunge into the cold,
And risk the cross of unknown depths,
To cast off fear, to venture bold,
And brave beyond our scope and breadth.
If all our perils are survived,
If somehow we prevail intact,
When landing on the other side,
We'll catch our breaths and glancing back,
From where we've come, we'll realize,
The distance was not much at all.
And yet, where we now stand, we'll find,
New oceans and far shores that call.
We must not gaze at foreign shores,
Afraid of waves which rage between,
Forever longing to have more,
Of vistas which we've not yet seen.
Instead we plunge into the cold,
And risk the cross of unknown depths,
To cast off fear, to venture bold,
And brave beyond our scope and breadth.
If all our perils are survived,
If somehow we prevail intact,
When landing on the other side,
We'll catch our breaths and glancing back,
From where we've come, we'll realize,
The distance was not much at all.
And yet, where we now stand, we'll find,
New oceans and far shores that call.
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