Poetry Visualized

fixer-upper

VAST KINGDOMS ONCE DID SPAN THIS SHRINKING SPHERE

Vast kingdoms once

did span this shrinking sphere.

One monarch bold

a million men could rule.

To teach the dumb,

protect the poor from fear,

To sow these seeds,

a scepter was his tool.

If I could have

an empire of my friends

to aid and guide,

the happiness I'd find.

I'd plant and reap

a love that never ends

and hoard it in the coffers

of my mind.

But now I see

my gifts were bribes,

not seeds.

Good will

was to enslave you,

not to free.

I am a tyrant

out of fear and greed.

From loneliness it is

that I aggress.

Your solitude

was never poverty.

It is my bounty

that is barrenness.

TO AN UNCOY MISTRESS

I've met the virtuous

and they are rare

and many others seem so,

but are not.

(Their words are cool

and yet their blood runs hot

to feed the lust

beneath that pious air).

I'd like to think I try,

like most, to do the right things.

Carnal motives

you can tell in words and deeds.

They have their place as well.

(Have fun and yet be good).

And then there's you.

The rumor has it

you sure get about,

so fast and loose and free

(I hear you love to flirt

with old or young, a girl or boy)

but in the end,

somehow

you don't put out.

Why die, dear,

with the reputation of a whore

and never really know the joy?

TO A NEW FRIEND

Now everything is cool.

We're at that stage

when trust, respect feel sure.

We sense a link in struggle,

pain and hope.

As we engage

things fall in place,

we think in sync.

But some day

I am going to let you down

and then you'll feel betrayed.

I'll be too late. I'll fib,

put myself first.

You'll see a frown.

Will I then be

the focus of your hate?

As best I can

I pledge you truth

and vow to you,

within fair limits,

to be near.

Least friendly

I will need you most.

Hear now:

I'm fallible. I'm flawed.

Be brave with me.

Be clear.

Forgive me.

Treasures lie beyond.

I claim I will forgive you

when I feel the same.

TIME FOR A CHANGE

I can't forgive myself

for feeling trapped.

Resentments grow.

This isn't what I planned.

My faith begins to fade.

I can't adapt.

I slither off

from where I used to stand.

My old convictions

simply do not fit.

It think it's time

for me to slink away.

Campaigns and hobbies, tasks

I have to quit,

abandon games and music

I don't play.

It's time to throw out

worn out clothes.

It's time to toss

old books and odds and ends.

To free myself

of tastes and creeds

all goes.

It's time to shuck off

relatives and friends.

It's not betrayal

or fear of what's ahead.

So I'm a snake.

Well, this one's got to shed.

THE REST

I later heard

she almost died.

Although she didn't try

to keep the fact from me,

the how and how come

wasn't mine to know.

My feelings

weren't her first priority.

So when I heard,

I had the time to think.

I didn't see her, call--

as I was bid.

Another time

I might have forced a link.

She didn't want my help,

yet help I did.

Musicians read staff measures

scanning notes.

The order, tempo, volume,

are displayed.

A rest is more than silence.

It devotes a value, beat,

a presence still conveyed.

My absence, silence,

were not crass neglect.

They proved my love,

support, - trust, respect.