Epigrams Inspired by the Inscriptions in the Library of Congress - I (2009)

     1
“The poets who on earth have made us heirs of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays.”

The heirs of truth and pure delight shall strive by heavenly ways;
Less strenuous is the path they tread that’s graced by heavenly lays.

   
     2
“In books lies the soul of the whole past time.”

A book has some enchantment strange profused in every page,
Which puts it outside time itself to speak for every age.

   
     3
“Give instruction unto those who cannot procure it for themselves.”

What boon is wisdom to the world when secretly preserved?
Instruct the crowds who have it not, then wisdom is well served.

   
     4
“Words are also actions, and actions are a kind of words.”
A word is a kind of inner act that tells the inward man;
An action is the outer word the inner word began.


     5
“No musician but be sure he heard and strove to render feeble echoes of celestial streams.”

Music is within us all the misting of celestial streams,
In some, more lucky, it condensates like colours in our dreams.

We Two Are One (2006)

We two are one, yet being one are two,
Such is the nature of our unity:
As one is to itself am I to you,
And so, as one, imply equality.
Though we in different bodies have been caught
(And what seems two but inequality?),
Is two not prime?  Divisible by naught
But one or two - it's double unity.
This being so then makes one ponder three,
And how from two distinct arises one,
When connection forms with two one trinity;
This third, some say, permits their unison.
What the wise call Union when they speak hereof,
The wiser know by its proper title: Love.

Darkness (2010)

This darkness has a light that is its own,
Where all is null and meaning has no sense,
Where every word and thought is overthrown
By Something Hidden, ineffably immense.
Here one is two and three and also one,
For in this darkness of the silenced mind,
As reason cracks and logic is unspun,
We see at last and realize we are blind.
Now, once the slanting clamour is dispelled
That clogs the brain, we open different eyes
And with them Something Nameless is beheld
And felt obliquely in our enraptured sighs.
This darkness is the Light, the place we cease
To strive, the silent realm of Truth and Peace.

A Poem is not Prose (2009)

A poem is not prose,
This truth an idiot knows;
But our poets insist upon writings
Of nonsensical, prosaic blightings;
And the pile of waste-paper grows.

A poem is not prose,
But our poets don’t suppose
That all the poems they have writ
For years and years have reeked like shit;
And the pile of waste-paper grows.

A poem is not prose,
But a rose is a rose is a rose;
So the ass who would call himself poet
Is still an ass, and these asses do show it,
As the pile of waste-paper grows.

All I See is You (2010)

A crowd surrounds, but all I see is you:
Your lovely hair down-spilling, warm cascades
Of curls unto your waist in auburn shades
And soft reflections – beauty’s perfect hue.
Relaxed and smiling, I see you now anew,
So stunningly right the rest are merely grades
Of waning greys amid the colonnades
Of beauty; light and colour come from you.
My lovely, O my lovely, never change;
Be always as I see you standing now:
The vibrant joy, the happiness you wear
Bright-shining in your eyes, your skin and hair
Aglow.  No, no, my love, you shall not change;
Your spirit’s blush will ever grace your brow.