Diatribe

“Underwater River Rocks” by Dixie Distefano

 

brooding stones suffer anger

ignored by the sun beneath waters

too rushed to give them a care

left to wallow in mud of neglect

all their prettiness lost to admiring

eyes of the world noticed only by

coldblooded philistine fish with

their miniscule brain-hearts too

full of themselves nothing left

but to wait for the next glacier

era to scrape them from dull

deep obscurity raising them back

to their freed rightful place among

nature’s own objets de vertu

derisively flaunting their sheer

indestructible lifeless antiquity

mocking pathetic mortality

walking the crests of creation

 

 

From my book Bohemian Scents

Conscience

“Sphinx” by Lou Bermingham

 

like the stern couchant sphinx

whose stone leonine paws

left no prints in the sands

or the muds of the Nile

you sit watchful with secretive

maddening patience

knowing the sinks that

hide tombs of the pharaohs

and all my unuttered

raw motives and fears

just watching and waiting

for sands to give way

exposing the meal

you will hungrily make

of my weaknesses

 

 

(originally posted April 2013)

Desiderata

 

“Cosmic Destiny” by Megan Duncanson

 

 

patient destiny
waits like an unused grave
watching your choices

 

 

(originally posted December 2013)

Fruition

“Cubist Wine” by Marlina Vera

decant old wine

slowly and gently

to crystal carafes

let it breathe

interact with free

freshening air

give it time to

encounter itself

to remember its

succulent vintage

allow it to gather

its long sleeping

color from

ambient light

nothing fine

comes in haste

but in patience

will every

fruition of life

yield reward

of its very

particular savor

Diatribe

“Underwater Stones” by Lorenzo – from Pinterest

 

brooding stones suffer anger
ignored by the sun beneath waters
too rushed to give them a care
left to wallow in mud of neglect
all their prettiness lost to admiring
eyes of the world noticed only by
coldblooded philistine fish with
their miniscule brain-hearts too
full of themselves nothing left
but to wait for the next glacier
era to scrape them from dull
deep obscurity raising them back
to their freed rightful place among
nature’s own objets de vertu
derisively flaunting their sheer
indestructible lifeless antiquity
mocking pathetic mortality
walking the crests of creation

Chelonian

“Surreal Turtle”
Computer Art by Matteo Pontonutti
From pxleyes.com

(Regarding the land tortoise)

a journey of miles
undertaken by inches
wanting no speed
each step an intimate distance
destiny held within hand

resolute stoic
possessed of a patient
dinosaur brain
knowing firsthand of land
more than wisest of men

undeterrable
simple in virtue of goals
food and progress
a creature whose example
can teach of contentment

Sandbags

Photo by Ochoin Deach
From theminiaturespage.com

the thing about water
it laughs at obstruction
it goes where it chooses
whenever it chooses
fills hollows and voids
washes sinners and saints
pushes under and over
around and straight through
all attempts to restrain it
all it wants for is time
it can outwait the outermost
limits of creatural patience
its memory reaches the
asteroid ice of its embryo
stage now mature it has
learned to create and destroy
cold detached equanimity
flows from its matrix
of molecules knowing
it has all the power that
men and their monuments
dream they possess so the
next time you contemplate
sandbags against flooding
seas keep your eye peeled
for paths of retreat to high
ground where precarious
moments of peace can be
useful to prayer and allow
you to learn how to swim

Spit It Out

Poesy plus Polemics

overtures fall flat on old ears

mere signals

that the gist will appear in time

but my time is racing

my patience runs thin

all your discursive falderal

squanders itself

on my ornery attitude

so get to the point

spit it out

or look elsewhere

for warmer reception

or wait till I’m having

a much better day

View original post

Conscience

“Great Sphinx at Giza”
Photo from guardians.net

like the stern couchant sphinx

whose stone leonine paws

left no prints in the sands

or the muds of the Nile

you sit watchful with secretive

maddening patience

knowing the sinks that

hide tombs of the pharaohs

and all my unuttered

raw motives and fears

just watching and waiting

for sands to give way

exposing the meal

you will hungrily make

of my weaknesses

 

 

Spit It Out

overtures fall flat on old ears

mere signals

that the gist will appear in time

but my time is racing

my patience runs thin

all your discursive falderal

squanders itself

on my ornery attitude

so get to the point

spit it out

or look elsewhere

for warmer reception

or wait till I’m having

a much better day