Monday, August 28, 2017

The Third Way

Today is not the time for complex thought
You have to pick our side or you are bought
By evil forces. Nuance is for naught.

You’re for us or against us—there
The evil plot begins—I can be for
The truth and virtue, beauty and the fair
And be against two evils I abhor.

You have to hate, and you must hate who we
Are hating—no, you cannot disagree.

I will not play your party game
Of pick-a-villain—any evil’s odious—
I will not choose your evil aim—
I won’t bow down to pick preferred infected puss.

We do insist, we do demand you hate
Mankind the way we hate him, or your fate
Will be to be associated with the gate
That guides to our twin opposite as mate.

The only thing I hate’s your hate—I love each one
And everyone, all humankind, their warts and all,
And trust an open, loving world will beat the gun
That’s brandished by the hateful right before they fall.

We will destroy you, for we hate your love—
We ground beneath our feet the mourning dove.

That’s better than a life within a world in which you rule—
Before I love your hatred I would rather be a fool—
And I would rather take your bullets than turned into your tool
To make the world your image and transform it to your runny stool.

Monday, August 21, 2017

The Parable of the Pots

One time there was a village where the men
And women kept their money stored in pots
They carried everywhere they went. They held
Them low and so each saw what each one had
To pay the rent or buy the food or clothes
Their families needed. Many had large pots
They filled to nearly overflow, and more
Were modest, and many more were poor
And carried almost empty pots, and some
Were destitute and carried only air.
One day a man of modest means went down
Into the market hoping he could find
A brand new pair of leather shoes. He saw
Some people walking by with much-filled pots.
He looked at his, half-filled, and to a stranger
Complained, "If I had what they have I would
Do so much good." The stranger looked at him,
Then looked into his pot. "Well, sir, I see,"
The stranger said, "You have much more than them."
He nodded at a pair with empty pots.
"Don't look in others' pots wishing for all
They have. But look instead for empty pots.
Your excess is another's meal or rent.
Instead of envy, generosity
Is what you ought to choose, and from that, give."
The stranger then took from his pot---a pot
With far less money than the other man's---
And gave a portion to each empty pot.
The man then gave in turn, and others saw
And gave to other empty pots until
Each there had something in their pot. The men
Stood there, amazed to see the others give.
The stranger said, "If you can't copy good
That others do, then do a good your own.
Don't envy what you cannot have or do,
But rather spread the virtue only you
Can spread, and watch as people copy good
Instead of vice, for coveting's the source
Of every evil, and the viciousness
Of envy will destroy each virtue you
Should love. Determine to do good and you
Will lead the world to doing good as well."
And thus the stranger nodded, and he left.
From that day forth, the man chose to do good
And never envied any other man---
And thus he modeled virtue to the town,
Which prospered as resentment never found
A soil rich enough to sprout its weeds
And spread the deadly poison of its seeds.

Monday, August 14, 2017

My Burning Heat, My Light

I do not mean to burn you out--my wife,
My friends, acquaintances are blistered, red
From my white coals--I'm meaning well, but dread
Is why I've bred from blackened soles and strife.
You dance around me--each flame feels a knife--
I only want a welcome warmth to wed
Your weary soul to mine--I find instead
I only seem to transform every life.

I cannot seem to follow, lead--I stand
Alone--too conscious, too oblivious--
I know each of the rules and cannot play.
You're standing on the boat that you call land--
When I shine light, my flame's called dangerous--
You'll die of lies so long as I don't stay.

Monday, August 7, 2017

The Left Bank

I have no obligation to be right
I only have to show I’m interesting
For everyone to choose to make me king

My stories and my words must but delight
To be presented with the wedding ring
I only have to show I’m interesting
For everyone to choose to make me king

To grant me power you will never fight
My words persuasive in untruth that bring
You to your knees so cheerful so willing
I have no obligation to be right
I only have to show I’m interesting
For everyone to choose to make me king