Showing posts with label Virgil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Virgil. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Lull-a-by


Stop at the low point, and in this recess
you will need these low slopes
to assess your remaining strength
in gradient.
Then,
          gather all the carnage you can,
but take none further than the valley.

To think is an acting verb.

Robots had been employed long ago.
Slave drives and across partitioned Seas
forbidden steps were recorded.
It was that legend that made it obvious 
                  we had since been spendthrift with time.

Our hands dirty from digging 
for shiny money and grit.
                   Seeing the stars so far from reach
we felt unrelated.
It became problematic, morally. 

As we take note of the hour
by the shadows cast backward,
thoughtfully-one attempts to
Rescale themselves
                                against the evening sky.
The airs thins during ascent
Aiming 
to take our breath away,
Try.

You will know when you need more than 
rocks and steps to move on.
And the ache
will accompany you (in lieu of Virgil),
And you will see the great Mountain 
                                  as more than one needs
in steps to reach
the peak
without why, 
                                  but because it is There. 

Humming and drumming help us close the distance.

Stars and mounds all added up to virtually nothing
separate or other,
meaning to, meaning too
much choice. 

Lulled into thinking the rest
helped gather strength
(in lieu of charge).




Painting By L. A. Roberts (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.

Thursday, December 8, 2016

The Humble Home


Sow and germinate our Pride,
stretching our will and want to cover
what we made need-later. 
Iniquity, I admire this perfect little life 
I have made
to dwell in and upon,
check in and out as I please...

What it seems-better to me-is my reality
I forget...why did I come here, compelled-
so I step away, hide things from myself,
to discover If 
I like those memories,
Truthfully.

Like you, before me,
I see anew at half way through-
though it was forced upon me 
by reflection,
Virgil left a note saying 
the rest is up to self sufficiency
Trust me
in finite, it is not complete.
Not for me.

So proud I am, but ineffective.
Standing here before you,
not knowing why, unable to convey
all the answers in art, the way I see it-
it pleases me enough to persist, as though
amour-proper was more than acceptable. 




Painting by Sanford Robinson Gifford [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Half-dozen Mud cakes

Back to wood decks, quarter-size spiders, webs, moss  and creatures stirring in the hollow nights Back to no side-walks and skirting into th...