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CHANGING TIMES
The real problem with prophecy,at least of the Biblical sort, is thatit has failed to keep up with ourever changing, mutating times. We no longer tend to use spearsin much of the world, and the callfor pruning hooks has diminishedto the point few know what they are. And thanks to John Deere and allof the…
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IT’S GREEK TO ME
They would deny it, of course,just as their progeny do today,but so many of the ills of this agecan be laid at the feet of the Greeks.Two of their inventions have led usinto the hellscape we call thisabnormal world in which we live.The first, of course, wasthe invention of politics, politikathe Greeks labeled it,and aloneit…
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FOR A WORD
Consider for a moment justhow different things might betoday, perhaps only in small ways,if one particular Mary hadnever been sainted, for thenthe asylum in London might wellhave had a different name, notSt. Mary’s of Bethlem for Bethlehem.If that had happened there wouldbe no bedlam in the world, tothe obvious frustration of politicianswho would have to…
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ARCHEOLOGY
On a belated honeymoon in Italywe wandered around the Roman Forumamazed at the ruins, imagining how theylooked once, how they had fallen so, eatenaway by time and endless stares of touristswho only wanted to touch history as ifit would grant them momentary immortality.Friends visiting Turkey sent picturesof the Hagia Sophia and that, in turn,returned my…
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PAST DUE
It seems we have an endlesscapacity for imagining peace,exceeded only by our capacityfor greed and selfishness.We announce our beliefsin equality, equity, diversityand abide them so longas they don’t impede ourdesires, wants, wishes.We offer alms to the poorsolace to the weak, prayersfor the needy so long as theyremain anywhere we do nothave to see or interact…
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MOVING WALL
She walks slowly pastthe three bronze menslumped wearily one against the others,and shuffled haltingly towardthe Wall where, at the sixth panel,she stooped and placed the small plastic poppyin the trough that cut along the base of the marble.Eyes squeezed closedshe reached up and tracedthe etched lettersseeking warmth from the cold stoneand felt its coarseness, likehis…
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URBAN DREAMS
The city crawls beneath youlike so many beasts awakenedin your recent nightmare, skitteringto somewhere you dare not imagine.This is not your city, it could never be,for cities are mere illusions, veneersfor prisons from which few escapeand fewer still are paroled, andyour sentence only ends in your death.Some say cities are beautiful, butyou know they are…
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SILENCE?
You smile when you saythat my voice is muffled,that you cannot understand whatI am trying so hard to tell you.You have taken my tongue, the priceperhaps for saying what youmost do not want to hear.So you may laugh at me, atmy attempts to speak, but youwill never silence me for I canyell, I can write…
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OUT FOR REVISION
Someone, I cannot remember who, suggestedto me that I write the story of the world,not that the world needs another edition,but perhaps because it would occupy meand I’d stop sharing my poetry that so fewreally want to read and do so out of politeness.I thought about this and it is an intriguing project,for I would…
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PAY UP
Look carefully, focus, is thata cathedral of dreams on the horizonor a nightmare future that flowsinexorably toward you, withno escape route, the priceof waiting too long, of assumingit wouldn’t happen here, itwouldn’t happen to you, couldbe wished away, could beignored without peril.What last prayers will youoffer to a God deaf to you,whose prophets you spurned.This…
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an old writer and his words 