Painting by Debra Hurd
From artistsoftexas.com
sometimes it all just
becomes too unbearable
smile for the crowd
take that horn make it cry
as if for some healed-over wound
Archives
All posts for the month November, 2015
“Great Horned Owl and Moon”
Photo by Kenneth Fink
From pixels.com
the dead come to me
touch my eyes
with remembrance
of raindrops and drought
of profit and pain
the horned owl
calls on the moon
to enlighten their path
to my hinge-weary mind
what good is sleep
without lifeless visitors
bystanding graveside
bemoaning the gravity
heavily hung upon lessons
of lapsed opportunities
taking my handful of sand
in grim vessels of
ambergris glass
heartbeats stilled
the night breathless
air filled with old odors
mistakes unforgotten
these shades unforgiving
point fingers with purpose
at the guilt in my gristle
lugubrious ghosts of
the dead come to me
“Con Artist”
Illustration by Urukki Saki
From urukkisaki.com
humility is weakness
no dragon will suffer
no self-respecting hombre
spits shyly in the wind
real men want shark skin
steel teeth in stone jaws
chiseled notions of self
an outlook cast down on a
world that’s beneath them
fraternity merely a ploy
to discover advantage
interactions are battles
and friendships are wars
every motive conduced
surreptition behind the
drawn smile the cool eye
the lizard brain operates
sleepless and bloodless
a creature of eons and
instincts accepted within
lotus-eater society busily
gazing at navels in mirrors
complacent unwilling to
see the barbarian come
in their midst too familiar
a totem of conscience
Einstein’s Field Equation for General Relativity
(Regarding the 100th anniversary of Albert Einstein’s presentation of the complete “Theory of General Relativity” to the Prussian Academy)
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matter tells spacetime to curve
spacetime tells matter to move
gravity tells light to swerve
as Mercury’s sphere was to prove
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“Asked in 1919 whether it was true that only three people in the world understood the theory of general relativity, Eddington replied: ‘Who’s the third?”
― Arthur Stanley Eddington
Illustration from Antique Anatomy Text
From pinterest.com
what do we know
of our unlit interiors
vital with viscera
organs comprising
our personal engines
of private biology
pumping and beating
secreting absorbing
digesting and dreaming
specialized structures
performing the various
work of existence
these canopic entities
own their own destinies
run to exhaustion
foreclose on their
functions unfazed by
the will of their host
setting off a grave
chain of events that
will threaten survival
more often than not
way too soon for
an unprepared soul
The Sailing Stones of Death Valley
Photo from whenonearth.com
mysterious motion
invisible forces
pedestrian stones
telltale trails marking
death valley sojourns
mythology courting
a barren lithology
hidden hands moving
metamorph chessmen
stealthy indifferent
progression across
a parched board
where nothing can live
but quaint questions
of wanderers wondering
why is low desert the
suitable place for
atonement where old salt
and alkali peel away
skin from the sins in
a game without rules
without tactics a chaos
of stumbling aimlessly
under a blazing hot
punishing ceiling of sun
imperceptible penitent
movements of sinners
confirmed by their
imprinted shadowless
tracks dragging pace
with the scored
playa racetracks of
slow sailing stones
Peter in Denial of Jesus
Image from jesuit.org.sg
three times denied
weakness given to fear
the cock crowed
“Winter Scene”
Painting by Linda Picken
From lindapicken.com
belligerent peace
is upon us a season
soon to be waged
northern winters
make silent assault
fill the air with a
ceaseless barrage
of soft beautiful
bomblets that deaden
the roar of shrewd
tactical nighttime
artillery winds
a frigid white quiet
explodes with each
dawn icy bayonets
glistening fixed upon
battlement eaves
frozen sun reveals
visible surfaces
layered in downy
decolorized gunsmoke
and powder from
weapons unheard
panorama depending
upon point of view
is exquisite or terrible
cold martial spectacle
baring the lovely serene
soundless mayhem
“Eternity”
Painting by Rachel Asherovitz
From fineartamerica.com
we made a pact
regarding forever
now we know
it is me
who will break it
if never did I
amount to a thing
I was always
a man of my word
tell the world
it was words
those poor locums
we choose
that we ineptly use
to stand in for
what lives
in the heart
it was words
that so failed
in the test
of their faith
not the man
Photographer Unknown
From pinterest.com
a day suitably named
reflecting the minds
who would stand
all-night lines
to make purchase
of doubly discounted
cheapened esteem
Poesy plus Polemics 