Content or complacent
The words that whole nations sent
Teetering on edge
Debate of all the hem and hedge
Plunging down cliffside oceans
For fear of others’ heaving shuns.
I would not call you pent
But I think that we could name you spent
Rent or wrote on broken arms
Contentment is triumphant harm
Rendered at the end of wrestling gods—
Beyond the scope of mortal nods.
Those who ever seek to see
will never bring their thoughts to be.
Those who always claim the highest peak
but never give their lives to seek,
will never live beyond the meek.
Those who always strain to hear
but never lend an open ear,
will disappear, unable to persevere.
Those who swim within a sea of dreams
but never bathe within reality’s streams,
will never feel the sunlight’s beams.
Those who will forever wait
and always fear a change of state,
will always bear eternal weight.
Those who always wear a thorny crown,
but never seek to break the frown,
will drown, in their own renown.
And those who always smile, never life beguile,
will be happy, if only for a little while.
* For The Thursday Poets Rally, Week 29.
In the eye
Revelation of a child’s sigh
Everywhere and all around
Nowhere, nothing, never was
This being of infection
Diseased nation of minds
Infecting and polluting
It is as much to kill as die
The beyond, always something lies
Beyond, and that is the reach
And nothing, they say
Has cured everything
If no one dies and no one thinks
It must be gone, it must be gone
But everywhere the dead and the dying
This being, non-complacent
To met out life, but death—
Child, what is God?
In your eyes and in your smile
A touch, held without duress,
Sweet child, that is all
The God I’ll ever need.