Monday, May 19, 2008

Keeper of the Hollowed Tome

The empty pages are much sought after
(As the stain of steely ink does offer):
They keep our lore folded crisp
Lest recollection tend to lisp,
And future pass distorted truth
Limiting enlightened sooth,
Filling young with fancied notions,
Watch their heads! Their frantic motions!

Away with you, chars of black -
Let us not in this task grow slack,
The pictures tell a thousand words
Of plebs and snakes and mighty lords
Blessings, curses, all combine
In this sacred valentine -
Bloody language there to smear
an arc wide - and simply - disappear.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Not a Haiku

The leaves rustle softly,
Trees whisper in idiosyncrasy
And the brilliant shadow approaches.
I murmur angrily,
Clasping my good eye
(For the bad one is faulty -
It sees truth now:
Flickering along the edges of reason,
Resonating and dissipating in this hot summer breeze).
Where should I look for desire?
It has abandoned me at last;
At last I'm lifeless,
The least leafless in this long, oh too long autumn
That lasts and lasts,
Skewing like some Marxist's hopes
Around Christmas.
The mating season is over,
I limp away from its remains,
A hollow golden pond
And not a picnic blanket to spare.