POETRY
This is a meditation on the differences between a culture the looks to black and white to be implicit of one another and one that prefers to view it as a war between the darkness and the light.
Straight as an Arrow
Straight as an arrow
I see you quiver
broken bow and mended bones
I feel the shiver
overwhelm the helm as captain’s
wheel warns the cycle of suffering
Siddhartha was a prince
Jesus was a carpenter.
Who built that perpendicular
throne in the air?
Who made that circle
one of despair?
Was it mother culture,
or father time?
Logic bearing brutes,
or animals picking animals
like fruits?
The pear that gives in
to reckless abandon
qualifies actions
as virtue or sin
/
Or embraces knowledge
like a child to breast
comforts to rest
says it’s best
confess
less.
Or admit it all, a heathenish thought
be it Samsara or the wife of Lot
Smitten smiters biting abiders
buffet of blaspheme,
fruit of knowledge cider
I need a pillar of salt with this dish
cannibalize a future to get what I wish
bought with tapestries and textiles
woven by bloody hands
wrecked in glass suspended sand.
Odysseus aims and misses
and alas, he lost his missus
we forget the longhand
is master and mistress
but things have changed.
loose change is subject to inflation
sliced bread is subject to mold
or preservatives,
and don’t we, ache to persevere
beyond our age
into higher gears
churn out\churn in.
template temples
chemical innuendos
tattered denim
lines and pentagrams
however,
the circle make it evil.
Doomed to repeat
again?
Again?
Again?
A gain?
A holey crusade is all the captain ever had
No wonder he’ll break the stern to
make his meal,
make that wheel
that great again.
A commoner and royalty
with whom will you share tea?
Straight as an arrow
Curved like a bow.