The Wife

it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
When in morning light I saw you
It was woman first seen
And I, with sight as been
Shorn of scale, set anew
If I had seen the brush Who painted
I would not have had a second take
In so seeing my sight did make
Scorn for all sin tainted
But the You I saw was true
In rose-gold bright statuary
In clarity I saw beyond clarity
When in morning light I saw you.



it is addressed thusly:
A vision.
it reads:
Ruin comes surely as ruin may come
With no less than a cheerful face
Though all be lost without a trace
And where now is the fortunate son
The one to whom they can turn
To escape depredation's cold burn?
Locked up in his tower across the sea
On Brasil he waits with what eyes?
Looks he east that he may too rise?
Or west across sunset lit lea?
He has risen indeed, driftwood man
As high as a beggared soul can
Beggared in his great manse
Having dove into the sea's wide arms
With all of his treasures and charms
And rises with each wave's expanse
And calls out broad to his fellows
But his breath in the wind's loud bellows
Comes out less than any man's voice
A hundred and forty letters in length
And still! And still in their strength
They stare in their world of Choice
But see only as far as the waves
Tir na Nog! Or are they but graves?
And find lost Brasil instead
They are tired of making men fit
They but only can force him to sit
And wish, wish they could die -- instead
Old Usher, did he despair
Did he stumble at the first stair
Was the sea but a swampy ground?
The wilderness made with man's hand
It does not fall, for it does not stand
And look! Look at the vision we've found
The tower is sinking, and we are struck dumb
Ruin comes as surely as ruin may come.



it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
Passing fear, into his hands is received
The gift, and guarded with unyielding will
As himself his charge is then consumed
By it, for it, and in it, received anew
And rising to the vision there conceived
Does the eye then see the holocausts
Of the stars in their still, dark abyss
Revolve ever-slightly around a loaf of bread?



it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
Rousing from cave and copse and grotto gray
Forgotten thing that now haunts the world
Burnt to pitch and ash-white the cities lay
Fire razed them, and fire will make them live again.



it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
Upon return old Mom had but this to say
Walking in the early morning light
Look east for but a moment to see the dawn
Then west to see all things lit by its coming.
a postscript is here written:
Pentameter: Fragment, Reverse Elaboration, Thesis, Antithesis-Synthesis. Do not intentionally rhyme.



it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
Walking home before the dusk
We noticed crimson wafts of cloud
As if in the blue and white of the waning sky
For a moment a patriot's day was dawning.



it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
When at last the rain subsides
Rising steam from August's heat
Falls cooling summer's strange device
We rest at last all things complete.



it reads:
Arising betwixt cleft of cloud and land
The transfigured sun makes known its face
No more red as it cast itself burning into the sea
But gold-white, into the waiting arms of morning.


The Earth is Flat & The Heavens a Dome (reprise)

it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
Once upon a time we're told
Of when times were much younger
Then at least they weren't old
Though antique still to the wonder;

Flat Earth was said to be a place
Suspended in the heavens
Domed Heavens themselves a veiled face
Numbered to the sevens;

Anon now we've thought to turn things out
And make them all much truer
Though just as true they are without
The skies are not much bluer;

Walk while you can your own flatland
Whose roundness is concealed
In bright abyss count as the sands
The pin-lit lamps revealed;

Question your own perceptions, then
That which you think you know
But stop not with what way back when
Was but quite in the vogue;

For if man was wrong to think Earth flat
His intellect failed him not
Like you and I, he made old hat
To rethink what was thought;

Imagination! It failed to reach
Beyond just what was seen
Who then could by clever speech
Claim thus he hasn't been?

The human being, this thinker that
Under upright skies does roam
For him, yes him! Earth's always flat
And the Heavens are but a dome.


The Orator Speaks of the Politic

it is addressed thusly:
A thought.
it reads:
Equality, the enigma of modernity
He said, as he gave the pipe a puff
Not an issue for those of tougher stuff
But tougher men still worthily
Considered it redoubtable
Its claims all but unfloutable
They did not mean, he continued on
That really only men like them
Were equal, they considered when
And thought it would not be too long
As did many of the intellectual
And at least started with no intent to pull
A fast one, no -- reality they thought
Would eventually make every kind
Equally and quite right refined
We must aver that those who fought
In the Revolution would have gladly lost
Their position, if that were the cost
To make society to work aright
Such was the commitment to liberty
Such was the commitment to equality
The thugs come later in the night
Claims otherwise are projected lies
Which perhaps fool those not so wise
The sectarian always waited in the wings
To twist his words for his own gain
Perhaps the true bourgeois by name
He is the scapegoat Post-Modern brings
To the fore, and all Marx's men
Were obsessed with power when
They thought to remake all men by force
The force of ideas! This was called but 'love'
Certainly not what the Apostle was thinking of
Nor our fathers, before our culture's divorce
But meek men will always be trampled down
And their truths be met with every frown
Or used against them by Sun Tzu's law
It is only in God they be recognized
In the world they can become revised
Into a shape that no-one ever saw
And what is this! They forget Balaam
Call them Masons, and into them cram
All numinous, dark inequality
Though men are all but incomparable
And can never in this life reach full

This is the enigma of modernity.