Living Classicism

I traveled once to Greece, the ancient land
Of tragedy, philosophy, the gods--
And there, beneath the plane tree I would stand,
Escape Apollo's heat, take Plato's nods.

In Athens in the paths of Socrates
I walked--agora and the marketplace
Today where women sell their wares. I'd seize
The very air, the ancient time and space.

In Naxos where Apollo's gate still stands,
Where Zeus hid Dionysus in a cave,
I ate in mountaintop cafes, my hands
Felt marble mountains--Naxos I still crave.

In Delphi where the oracles would speak
Apollo's prophesies in vents now sealed--
I stood within the theater to  peak
At what great Dionysus once revealed.

In Thassos where the ancient Greeks had sailed
From Naxos, Dionysus first set shoot--
A dining archeologist regaled
Me with the findings of this ancient root.

I lived in Greece a month, and there I found
An understanding of the things I'd read--
And having traveled I have found the ground
That grows the sweet figs that keep me well-fed.

Facebook Commenting Blues

The stupid, stupid, stupid hurts my brain,
And though I know engagement isn't gain,
When stupid rises I cannot refrain,
Though showing such contempt is but my bane --
Have an opinion? Please stay in your lane
And don't create a fake news daisy chain
With answers complex we can't make it plain
On formats that are mostly made to train
The brain to feel a little twinge of pain
If we don't quick-react--and from this strain
We feel the stupid just will never wane--
And that is why I simply cannot deign
To let you by believing stupid things
No matter all the anger that it brings. 

Dedication

I find the everythings I'm chasing wind
Their ways on wings of wrens within the willows
That wrap themselves around my very wrists unkind
To keeping friends who flee before the billows.

Beloved friends who feel that they must flee
Before my new obsessions and impatience--
I have Cassandra's gift of truth--my plea,
I know, has never willow-bound relations--

I write these verses you won't read to tell
You of my love that doesn't end when you
Abandon me, deny me, curse to Hell
Me--so the Muse will help me say what's true.

I live in isolation with my Muse
And all our children--them I'll always choose.

Caridwen and Taliesin

When crafty Caridwen concocted stew
Of knowledge in her cauldron, the strong brew
Brought poetry to life--Taliesin
Had tasted three mere drops--transformed
Within the womb of Caridwen and born
Of her, reborn out of the sea--and now torn
Apart and put together--in his rhymes
The truth is told--his rhythms are the limes
That keep us straight--where's good Taliesin
Today so that our minds will be transformed?
Mankind can only be reborn again
From poetry's own goddess Caridwen.