SWIFT’S DAY AND BAT’S NIGHT
The cities are a big buzz of motions;
Hurried, rushed, so quick commotions.
All days lift into the very long hurry
That is civilization’s endless story.
Sunlight by they whoosh by busy.
Visible yet blur, their lives not easy.
They lit nights for more and a bite,
Workers and parasitic wonders in flight.
FRET
Knighting glories to seek,
Crows in sunrises forever.
All does becomes meek,
Fret and surely does wither.
Death in its hunger
Fills not its own anger.
Mowing earthly lawns,
It plays men like pawns.
AGAIN
Tomorrow will come again
With its morning and night,
Feignedly new with rain,
In fervent dark and bright.
IDOLS
The patience of man
Had over many ages
Given to his own land
Births of many images.
It has made gods
Of so many symbols;
Earthly made rods,
Also celestial balls.
In his long wait
His patience creates
Answers that relate
Only to his state.
The clouds of reason
Cover his horizons;
Make a sky season,
Or mystic masons.
Sight is so deceptive
That it can tilt a view,
Halo any perspective
With inspired preview.
Man looks around
And sees such beauty,
Beyond any he found
Or his own humanity.
In his natural urge
He pays respects to
Visions and courage,
Where honour isn’t due.
In his all human way,
He puts faith in those
He comprehends’ll stay;
Idolizing his very nose.
MONEY AND THE MISER
“Spend me! You miserable clot,
So I can travel, visit and just be.
Have I not uplifted all your lot
With my coming and swelling sea?”
“Ha! See what is talking here;
Another creation grown astray.
Has making you collect near
Lost its purpose as any way?”
“I have existed so long before,
Making many, long before you.
Hadn’t my might sown more
Fright in you than you’ll rue?”
“My fear of you doesn’t keep,
That is why you I do amass.
How trivial your might heap
Just like any furniture was?”
“I taste the air man breathe,
Inhaled in its life and gasped.
Hasn’t the ease I could knit
Warmth skeletons all trapped?”
“I don’t lodge or host guests
And don’t burden any to host.
Haven’t I seen your requests
Send errands until they’re lost?”
“I plunge in a lake all humble,
Help will come and does drown.
Had not man’s urge so trouble
His lust for his own crown?”
“Then I’ve unraveled your plot,
So with me you’re ever sunk.
I’ll keep man’s own twin clot.
After all, aren’t you precious junk?”
FIRST PAIN
When I felt it happen too;
Like I heard and saw it too.
I died that day that I knew;
I was just me and not new.
Then alive I sprout out again;
Living as all do, after their first pain.
WOUNDS OF THE WORLD
Visible cuts we saw,
Deep set and so raw.
It had the pretty torn
And the beholder run.
Worn with its pride
As any true bride.
A scar from a war
Is like a lion’s roar.
Not on Everest’s peak
Must anyone do seek,
For even on all hills
Are these worlds ills.
The baby that cries,
Steals away and tries;
To be his own parent,
Where he is only sent.
That spouse out back;
Behind one Holy Ark,
Leaves the same vow
Yet remains, some how.
They; as many, are
So near and not far.
Wounds made bold
In this very world.
