With eco-fascists, left and right,
With racists, sexists, socialists,
With science, reason now in flight,
Solutions fought with dripping fists
We can't surrender to the hate
We can't surrender to the mob
When reason's racist, all debate
Devolves and you can only rob
An ethics which you have not earned,
Self-righteousness backed by the gun,
Because there's nothing you have learned
And you're unhappy you have won
This is a collection of the poetry of Troy Camplin. As each poem is always a work in progress, comments and criticisms will be taken into consideration, and changes, perhaps, made.
Monday, May 27, 2019
Monday, May 20, 2019
I Must
The Muses crawl around inside my brain
And keep my neurons always lit--I must
Make poetry--I'm living with this trust
I cannot leave behind--I can't refrain
From making art--production keeps me sane--
Neglect will only drive me to the brink,
To where I can no longer breath nor think--
And yet, I think this is a gift, a gain.
I have to live up on the mountaintop,
Out in the sun, the dancing star, the air
So crisp and cool, the water crystaline.
I'm forced to always harvest my mind's crop
Before it withers in the heat--the fair
Wind, weather will not last. I must begin.
And keep my neurons always lit--I must
Make poetry--I'm living with this trust
I cannot leave behind--I can't refrain
From making art--production keeps me sane--
Neglect will only drive me to the brink,
To where I can no longer breath nor think--
And yet, I think this is a gift, a gain.
I have to live up on the mountaintop,
Out in the sun, the dancing star, the air
So crisp and cool, the water crystaline.
I'm forced to always harvest my mind's crop
Before it withers in the heat--the fair
Wind, weather will not last. I must begin.
Monday, May 13, 2019
An Invitation
The gods have fled? They haven't been invited!
A century has passed opposing beauty
And now we stand depressed, dismayed, indicted
As artists for our failure at our duty.
Our art, our poetry--none beautiful
Enough to bring the gods to Earth--
None terrible enough to bravely cull
Us of the evil spirits we give birth.
We ought to bravely, boldly mark our blaze--
Instead, we set all art ablaze and kill
The soul. The avant garde's designed to raze
Instead of raise us--empty, never fill.
We wander lonely, stripped of flesh and soul--
We've been abandoned--art has lost its goal.
A century has passed opposing beauty
And now we stand depressed, dismayed, indicted
As artists for our failure at our duty.
Our art, our poetry--none beautiful
Enough to bring the gods to Earth--
None terrible enough to bravely cull
Us of the evil spirits we give birth.
We ought to bravely, boldly mark our blaze--
Instead, we set all art ablaze and kill
The soul. The avant garde's designed to raze
Instead of raise us--empty, never fill.
We wander lonely, stripped of flesh and soul--
We've been abandoned--art has lost its goal.
Monday, May 6, 2019
Aphorisms on Life, Death, and Meaning
"You cannot know about death before you know about life." -- Kung Fu Tzu
Creation must precede destruction.
Birth and life and sex come before death.
Avoiding death means you're avoiding life.
To have no peace, you must avoid all strife.
To create chaos, impose order.
True anarchy's the architect of complex order.
Imposing meaning means there is no meaning being made.
Creation must precede destruction.
Birth and life and sex come before death.
Avoiding death means you're avoiding life.
To have no peace, you must avoid all strife.
To create chaos, impose order.
True anarchy's the architect of complex order.
Imposing meaning means there is no meaning being made.
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