diogenes

the lantern burns
the midnight oil
searching for an honest man
may as well extinguish the sun
or sleep in a jar
in the busy market place.

These words spoken:
action is a loud mouth
that manifests humility
it animates a demagogue
to a platform higher
than the outspoken pedagogue

a life of morals
inspires a generation
a slumber in a jar
lays bare the ills of wealth
not a fat bellied remark
on a thinning audience

so i walk to sinope
to sleep in a jar
and in the busy market place,
fuel the lantern once more.

chars and burns

i sparkle with the spark
glowing on a splinter
and dance on a candle
as on twin hearts of youth
of life's mount ascent
burning with potential
burn on i burn

kindled upon the hearth
a live beating heart!
the brazier sooner bakes
the oven alike
overcome are we all
mothers teach of it
and sons burn
and call it love.

and so the wilderness is consumed
and turns barren and...
countries turn to dust
religions are tested
chars and burns
ash and asinine scalds
bedevil those but us whose
golden coat is purified
sons of the sun
reborn phoenixes

the life cycle

the shortness of breath

is never that of breadth

only in youth it was

pain so untold

rule the realm

and never did the cloud pass

until way past

until another emerged


and in fear i faltered

a teenage in shadows

whispers of death and carnage

cuddled my blood and i,..

lost myself in the murky place

where victory was mine

i reaped nothing

for nothing a sowing begets nothing

hesitation took the day


way past where a man is formed

in the kiln of life i cracked

a deformed jar is soon crushed

wasn't so lucky

a loner in life

cried for graves UN-beckoning

defined by a solitary thought of hate

and where they go when in need

indeed it escaped the lonesome

power is for the wielding

the powerful rule the frail

this power being given

i vowed...

never erect a monument

for another but myself

we see them

you see them

in a pedestal

of their own erecting

describing a world of dreams

as they would wish it was

and hear them tell tales

of their own legends

their might unrivaled

in their childish reveries


mind permitting,

the heart creates illusions of grandeur

that the body exist in

like a mindless ostrich

aloof to the vicissitudes of mortal living

the churn of chronos pass unseen

screams of praise pass to them

from their loving subjects

to the diadem of their majesty


whether a vagrant at the road side

or the insane at the asylum

or a leader,

divorced from the love

you see them

in a pedestal of their erecting

living in a world of dreams

enslaved by their own devices