The Pumpkin

 The pumpkin took the pirates at their word

And wrestled words to waves of the absurd.

The pompous pirates, showed to see their lies

Performed by pumpkin dared, as each denies,

To froth and faint and fester, all appalled. 

There is no name the pirates never called

The pumpkin who had used their views to see

The river boat that he could fly to be

The captain of the canal capital

So he could drain the swamp 'til he was full. 

Be Free

Why let its fingers grasp your sleeve? You’re through

The wicked forest, in the field of flowers

I planted just for you. There are no powers

Preventing you from gazing at the stars, 

To see the streaking dust, to gaze at Mars.

I’m by your side on winding mountain roads,

On winding roads beside the lakes, the nodes

Of rivers man has made, and through the trees

That hide the singing birds and mute the breeze.

I’m by your side, so calm your racing mind—

Don’t let your anxious fear kill joy and blind

You to the field of flowers, colors spread

In living, loving patterns. Don’t be dead

To all our living moments—do not fear

Our future, a horizon never near.

Beloved, please. Enjoy your life that we

Have built, our children—let your mind be free.

The Common Lies

I watch the news--I'm told the common lies

I cannot trust a thing I read online

The teacher teaches what the truth denies

And information now is indefine

The politicians lie, the newsmen lie

About the politicians and for them

And you cannot believe what they deny

They sell a glass as a true diadem

How can you know the truth on such an earth

Where truth is weeded out and lies are fed?

When everyone is speaking lies, what worth

Is there in truth?--yes, even facts are dead

The sophists and the demagogues feel shame

At their replacements who believe no fact

Or truth, but only who they get to blame

And spread that blame without a shade of tact

The liars are the last to dare defend

A dying world--when even scientists 

Prefer to promulgate the mere pretend

Of science, falsifying what exists

The only people left we could believe

Are poets who do not pretend to truth

But lie in honesty--so do not grieve,

For we predict a new world in its youth

The Path of the Poet

This awesome, awful curse

And blessing none believes

Or would believe--God's voice

And touch God's choice receives.

I'm waiting, still to blossom,

I feel I'm still a bud

And yet I've lost this mark,

No longer bleed his blood. 

An awful, painful curse

That has split me asunder

Is driving me to work

Before it puts me under.

I do not know if God

Is pushing me to live,

But surely it is true

He's pushing me to give. 

Resurrection

In death as in rebirth the soul is brought

By Hermes--up and down are made the same--

We only sell the things that can be bought--

Embrace rebirth, renewal without shame.

The double serpents must untwist to shed

Their skins--to shed their deaths to be reborn--

The serpents then rehelix and are wed--

The male and female each other adorn.

The staff bestows upon you somber sleep--

The staff bestows upon you waking life--

The lyre is lifting legs, so dig down deep

To breathe your coals to fire, to love and strife.

Then Hermes laughed, "Now dance the fractal border!

I make the land between chaos and order!"