MORE OR LESS THIS THAT OR THE OTHER
OPINIONS MAY BE DANGEROUS
On display for all to see who were able,
”It is eye”
Said the natty, gnat, gnat on the nose of the fly
Who was perched on the nose of an irritable guy; “Take that”.
And the irritable man, he swatted away
At the fly on his nose,
And the gnat (there he goes),
As his world went awry, said “goodbye”.
And the irritable man with the tie in his hand
Completed the Windsor knot.
And tucking at this and that around the collar until satisfied that “handsome is as handsome does”
(He loved this tie a lot),
Except for the spot
Where the fly had landed.
So happy he was that the fly was now gone. (the fly never really knew what hit him on the return approach).
The gnat by the way, was just that, In The Way.
And the hand of the man went SWAT once again
And returned to the view in the glass in the lav
And perfected the knot in his Brooks Brothers tie and said “Dang,
I’m a handsome man.”
AND THE BEAT GOES ON…
When opinions reek of danger and
When bias hisses,
When judgment derides,
When prejudice misses
It is the absence of “Hark”,
The dark temptation to seekers of Truth.
“Alle heil der abend,”
As last light fails
And discourse galls
The light of Reason.
And feeds upon
The mindless nod of
A thousand, million heads.
“Shall we do this?”
(cries the headman)
And then arrives
An alternate view
To an optimistic few.
And a rosier future
As autumn brings a withering reminder
Of thoughtless, irretrievable syllables
This new Ship sails
To sites and sounds unknown.
A few have grown
And risen above the moan
Of grieving masses.
Life as must, moves on.
A MAN OF FEW WORDS
He lived Love but never spoke of it.
He was impossibly complex, subtle yet obvious, impossible to describe due to what?
His peculiar sort of mediocrity ?
The aloof quality which was ever-present, whether shopping for a new automobile or when he in his most raggedy attire was on his hands and knees, all brown: I say all brown and dirty, playing marbles with his sons.
But one could always depend on him to use only whatever words were necessary to say whatever it was he had to say.
His name was Dixie.
He was my Father.
I called him Lovey.
WHEN COWS FLY (DID I GET THAT RIGHT?)
When birds fly, when ants forage, when religions are born, when governments collapse, there is a principle involved; it has nothing to do with education, intelligence, with social history or for that matter, any noticeable measure of sanity. It is present in all group activity. It requires only the most basic instinctual fragment of decision-making. The leader of the pack “says” North, South, East or West. The pack members notice only the constituent to the left or the right and follow the observed movements. With starlings it is called murmeration. With cattle it is hanging out with the herd. With bees it is buzzin’ aroun’with yer buddies and with people it is the nod of a hundred heads to the command “Let’s get’er done.”