Friday, January 20, 2012
When the time has run it's course forever,
And the earth is old, and full of years,
Let the sun be empty and be ready
For some candy flower and the biscuits.
When all is neat and all is crisp and clean,
Ironed with an eye for clear cut linen,
And the smell of pansies ever potent;
Give the judge and jailer all their money.
When the heart will beat itself from living,
And the eyes, with age, will fall asleep,
When the dying season is upon us,
And the songs of merrilies abandoned,
Give the gaffer bread with jam and honey,
And the coin to pay the ferry master.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Crudius wakened when a comet
rocked his chamber and his hall.
He found upon the open fields
carcases of an eon's worth
of life wiped out by global warming.
Crudius gathered fruitful harvest
to his caverns underground.
There he lit himself a fire
and put them to the kettle room.
Crudius turned and stirred till all became
as black as carbon, raw and sweet.
Then he left his organic stew
to liquify and purify
and cover all the deepest pits
and wait till life once more begun.
Then Crudius went back to sleep.
Surely, he did not wait long
till rambling men begun to dig
a generous well an inch too deep
it scraped the very roofs of hell.
Once more was Crudius rudely woken
by the discourse from above:
"We have found ourselves a slave
whom we might work to fill our sleeves".
So they siphoned from the pits
this new black slave to set to work.
They set him first upon their farms,
They spoiled their kids with plastic toys.
He gave the miner and the banker
gold and inelastic joy.
Crudius was their mighty servant;
worked till he was all but spent.
Then he saw his time was ripe,
and all his masters plump and bent.
He choked them with a carbon cloud
and steamed them in their living rooms.
A few escaped, but just too many
could not even dig their graves.
He took their bodies and their wealth
and sent them to his deepest caverns
where he set his stove on fire
and cooked till all became like coal.
Then Crudius sent them further down
to liquify and purify,
and on the surface, nature once
again was free from meddling men.
So that god Crudius bid his time
till there came again another man
whom he could tempt to dig a well
and lift his oil straight from hell
To work the fields and factories
and build his castles and his halls.
Then he would soon discover wealth
and plunder himself to destruction,
so that the god will gather round
the fruitful harvest for the next
enticing round of "Dig a well".
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Sometimes the awe
of the coming tide
makes one shiver
with thoughtful glee.
throughout the universe;
am I alone,
and am I free?
Spring snow an hour
removed from sunset red,
carries the hue
of the galaxy,
and the color
of the human soul.
Its hopes glow hallow
in the dark
of its failings,
its eyes shine
bright in the night;
Its happiness stored
in a pickle jars
till the dawn
breaks through the cask
The beans it spills
is seminal white,
and blends with
To briefly die,
and then to rise
another starry field.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
It's at a time
when I refuse to check my mail
so I can be surprised
by my TIME subscription
I wait for the boy to snore
so I'll have something
other than myself
to ridicule and bemoan.
The time I sit
till I sink in
the crater my bottom
makes on my bed;
And I see how naturally I dent
All that was comfy and right.
The times we watch
the seconds tick
and wish we were
like time -
to go on
till the end
without a burden to bear.
The moments we coil
up like a snail
without a sturdy shell-
Our nakedness stark
against the black
of a pit
and a raging storm.
The eternity it takes
to move beyond
the wreckage of one life
And to dare to look
beyond the clouds
and smile at an angry sun.
I'll eat a cold cake
and drink some honey
to savour the aftertaste.
Life is a well
in which we fell
and we look up
right back from our waste.
But if the hedgehog
loves her spines,
and the fly his failing legs,
then maybe we'll wait
to see what God
can make of this aging hag
Monday, January 2, 2012
Picture, picture on the wall,
Frights beseech a mercy plea.
Comes now pride before the fall,
And eddies whip up jealousy.
Ladies stare with deep regret,
Caressing convoluted skin;
Days of youth they never forget
As time and tear wear them thin.
Beauty fails like helpless passing.
Time moves on without much care.
Memories fade against their wishing;
"Forever" is a graceless fair.
Do not look back on those memories
Framed forever in the past.
You must grow and you must grey,
And must be wiser as you age.
You must realise that the essence
Of a thing that's fixed and focused
Is to leave behind the presence
Of the past that's gone and dead.
That the youth and all it's fairness
Was a passing into shadow,
And such beauty shall not witness
When once filled with age, you glow.
Keep the wrinkles and the grey hair,
Don't be silly, sad and vain.
It's your good soul that is fairer
Than the outside you disdain.