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Let it be obeyed but not enforced.

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Never Would Obeyed

You are hooked onto something,
You can not see has ended.
Hooked onto it with clinched teeth.
But the fact remains...
Things have changed.

Things have changed so fast overnight.
Those who refused to be real with it.
Are the ones going into childish,
Temper tantrums and other childish...
Mental throwing fits.

Have you tried to get someone to heal real quick?
Doesn't it seem such a waste of time?
Especially when you know someone,
Who has never owned their own mind.
Don't you find that asinine?
When someone can't make up their mind?

Trying to find reason...
When reason wasn't hard to find!

And those who obeyed,
Don't have to be afraid...
Of the coming times!
Uh-huh.
And those who obeyed,
Don't have to be afraid...
Of the coming times!
Uh-huh
And those who obeyed,
Don't have to be afraid...
Of the coming times!
Uh-huh
And those who obeyed,
Don't have to be afraid...
Of the coming times!
And if they are...
They never would obeyed.

You are hooked onto something,
You can not see has ended.
Hooked onto it with clinched teeth.
But the fact remains...
Things have changed.

And those who obeyed,
Don't have to be afraid...
Of the coming times!
Uh-huh.

[...] Read more

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Enforced With A Focus Fixed

Being alone and wishing to be,
With an acknowledgement of it.
I chose to experience removing myself from limits.
And with the doing of this helped me to realize,
I depended on the feeding of my weaknesses.

And when I faced this doing to prove I could do...
With a self examination to improve,
I became enforced with a focus fixed upon it.
I had to divorce from my emotions then too sensitive.
And with a taking I did...
I took the oars to row my floating boat back to shore,
To never again ignore those obstacles.

Being alone and wishing to be,
With an acknowledgement of it.
I chose to experience...
Distance!
And I became enforced with a focus fixed.

Divorced from my emotions then too sensitive,
I became enforced with a focus fixed.
With a focus fixed.
And with a focus fixed...
I divorced from my emotions,
Then too sensitive.

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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

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Why Isn't Anyone Obeying The Rules?

Why isn't anyone obeying the rules?

'Rules?
Which ones?
The ones that were in effect,
That have been changed?
Or the ones no one ever obeyed,
After the changes were made...
To make the old ones more effective? '

That doesn't make sense.

'And maybe that's why they aren't being obeyed.

Which interpretation of rules are in effect?
And who's interpretation of those rules,
Should be respected?
If they aren't being followed by those who break them,
To obey,
Then who should say to whom what should be obeyed? '

What?

'Why repeat what is not in existence?
Does a cow drink its own milk,
To obtain stronger bones with a steady dose of vitamin D?
I doubt it.'

And...
Nevermind.
I am so glad I am not seeking explanation!

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So we want an Islamic state where Islamic law is not just in the books but enforced, and enforced with determination. There is no space and no room for democratic consultation. The Shariah is set and fixed, so why do we need to discuss it anymore? Just implement it!

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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

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The Child Of The Islands - Winter

I.

ERE the Night cometh! On how many graves
Rests, at this hour, their first cold winter's snow!
Wild o'er the earth the sleety tempest raves;
Silent, our Lost Ones slumber on below;
Never to share again the genial glow
Of Christmas gladness round the circled hearth;
Never returning festivals to know,
Or holidays that mark some loved one's birth,
Or children's joyous songs, and loud delighted mirth.
II.

The frozen tombs are sheeted with one pall,--
One shroud for every churchyard, crisp and bright,--
One foldless mantle, softly covering all
With its unwrinkled width of spotless white.
There, through the grey dim day and starlit night,
It rests, on rich and poor, and young and old,--
Veiling dear eyes,--whose warm homne-cheering light
Our pining hearts can never more behold,--
With an unlifting veil,--that falleth blank and cold.
III.

The Spring shall melt that snow,--but kindly eyes
Return not with the Sun's returning powers,--
Nor to the clay-cold cheek, that buried lies,
The living blooms that flush perennial flowers,--
Nor, with the song-birds, vocal in the bowers,
The sweet familiar tones! In silence drear
We pass our days,--and oft in midnight hours
Call madly on their names who cannot hear,--
Names graven on the tombs of the departed year!
IV.

There lies the tender Mother, in whose heart
So many claimed an interest and a share!
Humbly and piously she did her part
In every task of love and household care:
And mournfully, with sad abstracted air,
The Father-Widower, on his Christmas Eve,
Strokes down his youngest child's long silken hair,
And, as the gathering sobs his bosom heave,
Goes from that orphaned group, unseen to weep and grieve.
V.

Feeling his loneliness the more this day
Because SHE kept it with such gentle joy,
Scarce can he brook to see his children play,
Remembering how her love it did employ

[...] Read more

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Taking Liberties too far

The lack of enforced discipline.
Is where our troubles all begin.
The evidence is plain to see.
Things are not as they ought to be

Some legal technicality
allows the guilty to go free.
They thus evade due punishment
although they are not innocent.

It’s much the same in homes and schools
Where children disobey the rules.
Without regard to consequence
because they see no evidence.

They will be chastised in due course.
There is no point in having laws
which aren’t enforced impartially.
Applied to all men equally.

A civilised society
which fails to enforce it’s own laws.
Will slide into sheer anarchy.
The lack of discipline the cause.

The time has come: We must review
exactly what the law should do.
To deter those who break the rules
If we do not then we are fools.

08/10/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

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Crippling Needs

Faith and disappointment!
Who merged this disarray?
What signals were introduced...
To produce excuses this way?

Prayer and dissatisfaction?
Who sits to wish for this hypocrisy?
Infractions that attract,
Leaves detractors more detached.
With a unity scrapped,
And no chance of it...
Ever coming back!

Hope and degradation...
Enforced to minimize,
Overconfidence and elation!
Pits an unfitting feast of people,
Against themselves...
With crippling needs!

Faith and disappointment!
Who merged this disarray?
What signals were introduced...
To produce excuses this way?
Hope and degradation,
Enforced to minimize...
An overconfidence and elation!
Pits an unfitting feast of people,
Against themselves...
With crippling needs!
Prayer and dissatisfaction?
Who sits to wish for this hypocrisy?
Infractions that attract,
Leaves detractors more detached.
With a unity scrapped,
And no chance of it...
Ever coming back!
Even to comply...
With a mismatched patching,
Of lives pieced together,
To induced them all
To produce a tethering.
That is linked to seduce,
More elusive alibis!

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Division Had Been Their Decision

For those who believe,
With ease they can excuse...
Every detail of their anger,
Physically enforced upon others...
With a hindsight now wished,
That a forgiveness not given...
From victims they've abused.

KKK, Nazi and skinhead reformers,
Now endorsing love and peace.
From an underground released,
To make public their appearances.
After actively in years increasing...
Racial tensions unleashed like beasts.

Division had been their decision...
To despise those innocent,
With defamation, murder and maim.
Now as guilt rides their consciousness...
In a disrobing of confessions.
Expressing regrets for their ugliness...
They are making attempts,
To re-invent their mental illnesses.

Finding God in prisons...
Or wherever these misfits sit!

For those who believe,
With ease they can excuse...
Every detail of their anger,
Physically enforced upon others...
With a hindsight now wished,
That a forgiveness not given...
From victims they've abused.

Only God has that power.
And it's God who will devour them...
Whether they masquerade in hopeless fear.
Or wish to erase their sins to clear...
Their souls to enter a Kingdom.

A Kingdom lost souls can not smear.
A Kingdom that comes and is near.

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Egos Addicted

Images are needed,
By a society fantasized...
With hyped perceptions.
At the expense of an enforced,
Dwindling greed.

How can egos addicted,
Keep from bleeding?
How can selfishness worshipped...
Be curbed?
Stopped!
And no longer serving,
Those disturbed in denial fits!

Images are needed,
By a society fantasized...
With hyped perceptions.
At the expense of an enforced,
Dwindling greed.


And those elected to protect their 'treats',
Find they've become accountable...
To ease a reality upon these minds.
Teasing them with beliefs of victory!
When deceit and defeat...
Has surrounded them for sometime!

How can selfishness worshipped...
Be curbed?
Stopped!
And no longer serving,
Those disturbed in denial fits!

How can egos addicted,
Keep from bleeding?

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Keeping Faith In Hollow Concepts

Intelligence can not be enforced,
Upon those restricted and conditioned...
To accept the limitating affects,
Of their teachings.

If people are lead to believe...
An aspect of life that does not exist,
But for them they can achieve...
Then of course,
Their efforts are going to be frustrating.
It is like keeping faith in concepts,
That are not real!
But to the death they are embraced and held.

When I realized Santa Claus did not exist...
I went ballistic!
The Easter Bunny, Minnie and Mickey Mouse
And a host of my childhood allies...
Were erased from me,
When I began to age with understanding I then refused!
Sometimes I wake up in cold sweats,
Thinking of the death of them.
And how I was challenged to move on with my life!

Intelligence can not be enforced,
Upon those restricted and conditioned...
To accept the limitating affects,
Of their teachings.

Religions, deities and their myths?
I am not going to touch that with a ten foot pole!
I'll just say the marketing has left tremendous debts,
Of mental casualties!
Wherever these beliefs are currently at war!
One has only to connect the dots to observe the damage!

If people are lead to believe...
An aspect of life that does not exist,
But for them they can achieve...
Then of course,
Their efforts are going to be frustrating.
It is like keeping faith in hollow concepts,
That are not real!
But to the death they are embraced and held.

And those who know these things...
Are freer to live their lives,
With a broader sense of self.
Without fears to manifest and share.
Once an awareness stretches to introduce,

[...] Read more

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Out of Their Comfort Zones They Are Thrown

People are too accepting,
Of their learned and enforced perceptions.
Envisoned with fixed images in their minds.
Like men aren't expected to cook or do chores.
Or women who look feminine,
Shock others who see them box in rings.
Or play basketball with hook shots,
To achieve high scores.

Men who sing and write,
Are expected to be limp of wrist.
While those who appear to be 'supermen'
Stop traffic when seen,
Holding hands to then kiss.

And women who wear lipstick,
Are often approached by men...
For sex and overnight 'flings'.
When they announce they are lesbians...
'Homophobics' do not begin,
To rejoice and sing.

People are too accepting,
Of their learned and enforced perceptions.
When out of their comfort zones they are thrown...
Those who are not like them,
Are condemned to be sinners!
As if a wholesomeness can not be lived...
Unless pretensions are embellished,
And mentioned to impress...
Over again and again.

With a 'normalcy' perceived...
That does not threaten what is believed.

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Patrick White

Born Below

The rich will eat the poor like the krill of the sea
and grateful there is no real estate among the stars
flowering in the furrowed branches of the willow,
I stand in the backyard parking lot,
and look up with the wounded longing
of a man whose questions are older than his eyes,
knowing nothing will answer the agony
of being alive awhile to bear
this incredible burden of stars
to a grave that gapes without wonder, without sky, without light.
The night is a whisper of God to the dark minerals
composed in the vastness of space
to be humbled by the exaltations of time and mind.
Mercy and healing the radiant view
that expands like a universe within
when the heart grows tired of reading the braille of its scars.
Those lights, ferocious hawks shrieking in their wheeling heights,
the shattered glass of their unsoiled scintillance
thrown down like a goblet they only drink from once,
were my first teachers, the legends of their fury,
ancient, transformative fire imbibed early
that raised me up out of myself like a face
from the boat of my hands
or a passion I couldn’t return.
Are they changed somehow for the stories we tell of their shining,
the laws by which we divine their mysterious origins,
or enhanced by the thousands of years of gazing
that first raised ziggurats and pyramids on alluvial plains
to witch the will of the gods with lightning rods
in a chaos of mutability, civilization
the delusion born thereof, do they burn blindly
above the brutal business of the world, unconcerned
with the politics of extinction that rages below,
the flaring matchbook of nuclear powers
held to a page of apocalypse
that shadows the cowering earth
with arsonists and Armageddon?
Is all that flare and fury, the creation
of the very letters by which the worlds are said,
nothing but the afterlife of a sterling moment
in which, like us, they can’t in the present be seen?
Do the stars that shone on Babylon
shine on us; shine down on nothing,
or have they been humanized even slightly,
as they have been reputed to urge our own blood into fate,
by the monocausal view of love and carnage down below?
And gods, each to themselves,
have we become as they are, indifferent to our own glory,
random debacles of accidental intent
weighing our lives in the same purposeless breath,

[...] Read more

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John Milton

Paradise Regained

THE FIRST BOOK

I, WHO erewhile the happy Garden sung
By one man's disobedience lost, now sing
Recovered Paradise to all mankind,
By one man's firm obedience fully tried
Through all temptation, and the Tempter foiled
In all his wiles, defeated and repulsed,
And Eden raised in the waste Wilderness.
Thou Spirit, who led'st this glorious Eremite
Into the desert, his victorious field
Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st him thence 10
By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire,
As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute,
And bear through highth or depth of Nature's bounds,
With prosperous wing full summed, to tell of deeds
Above heroic, though in secret done,
And unrecorded left through many an age:
Worthy to have not remained so long unsung.
Now had the great Proclaimer, with a voice
More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried
Repentance, and Heaven's kingdom nigh at hand 20
To all baptized. To his great baptism flocked
With awe the regions round, and with them came
From Nazareth the son of Joseph deemed
To the flood Jordan--came as then obscure,
Unmarked, unknown. But him the Baptist soon
Descried, divinely warned, and witness bore
As to his worthier, and would have resigned
To him his heavenly office. Nor was long
His witness unconfirmed: on him baptized
Heaven opened, and in likeness of a Dove 30
The Spirit descended, while the Father's voice
From Heaven pronounced him his beloved Son.
That heard the Adversary, who, roving still
About the world, at that assembly famed
Would not be last, and, with the voice divine
Nigh thunder-struck, the exalted man to whom
Such high attest was given a while surveyed
With wonder; then, with envy fraught and rage,
Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air
To council summons all his mighty Peers, 40
Within thick clouds and dark tenfold involved,
A gloomy consistory; and them amidst,
With looks aghast and sad, he thus bespake:--
"O ancient Powers of Air and this wide World
(For much more willingly I mention Air,
This our old conquest, than remember Hell,
Our hated habitation), well ye know
How many ages, as the years of men,

[...] Read more

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Bell's Palsy I Penned stroke on stroke penned - Optimistic In...Sight

Bell's Palsy I


December turns November's page.
Assumptions artificial,
priorities age must regauge
of ease so superficial
the tenets, try to disengage
from palsy interstitial,
periphery extend sans rage
ineptly hit-and-missile.
Paralysis as passing stage
perceived though prejudicial
as challenge met we trust will wage
war on clock lock official,
ensuring both for sot and sage
return to strength initial...

II


Bell’s Palsy II – Number Seven Optic Nerve

Number seven optic nerve, now numb,
taken for granted, normally ignored,
leaves facial features slanted. Voice, not dumb,
answers questions with weak monochord.
Flesh elastic flaccid has become,
control relinquished, hanging on a word.
Vision peripheral blurred. Though rule of thumb
Provides for time-line, faculties restored,
Frustration, hope, play hide-and-seek, mind glum,
stares awry at some lop-sided smile. Record
of former glory plays back yet stays mum.
May this as an example serve, health granted
For future learning curve can’t be transplanted.

3 December 2007 revised 8 August 2008


Bell's Palsy III - Recounting Countdown

Recounting Countdown

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Bell's Palsy XIV - Dew Diligence

Bell's Palsy XIV - Dew Diligence


Dew diligence when eyelid is denied
control of wink, when blink becomes a feat
beyond the ken of mice and men, conceit
melts to humility, while cares abide.
Heartbeat accelerates to concide
with worry, movements taken for a ride
by malady haphazard striking fleet.
Fixed expression canvas could complete
as flexibility falls to one side,
focus reduced, no longer far and wide,
too close for comfort, wanders off the beat.
Pride, knocked for skittles, cannot make ends meet,
patience, once praised, stays stage-struck, sorely tried.
Fixed interest stocks soar, gilt lining’s sought
to train too slack to credit outlook taut.


5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XV - Dissymmetry

Confusion from confusion must adjust
to face tomorrow’s out of kilter grin
with humour ‘til the specialists non-plussed
seize on season’s reason, find win-win
solution to an accident now cussed
in no uncertain terms as worms begin
to lay their weight on current state where lust
must bridled be, - who’d seek as kith and kin
one open eye, one which retains unfussed
perspective, lacks control of muscle spin
to twin both sides in unison true, just.
Dissymmetry becomes a moral gin
and handicap self-efident, untrussed
is optic nerve from verse which would begin
to laugh at luck, continue tongue in cheek
to find new way to strength transformed from weak.


5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XVI - To Test Frontiers


Inertia catalyzes swift reaction

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Bell's Palsy XV - Dissymmetry

Bell's Palsy XV - Dissymmetry

Confusion from confusion must adjust
to face tomorrow’s out of kilter grin
with humour ‘til the specialists non-plussed
seize on season’s reason, find win-win
solution to an accident now cussed
in no uncertain terms as worms begin
to lay their weight on current state where lust
must bridled be, - who’d seek as kith and kin
one open eye, one which retains unfussed
perspective, lacks control of muscle spin
to twin both sides in unison true, just.
Dissymmetry becomes a moral gin
and handicap self-efident, untrussed
is optic nerve from verse which would begin
to laugh at luck, continue tongue in cheek
to find new way to strength transformed from weak.


5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XVI - To Test Frontiers


Inertia catalyzes swift reaction
testing limits unbeknownst before,
experienced elsewhere, though, we ignore
discomforts which might hamper freedom, action.
Impervious to muscular contraction,
left eyelid, lip, unable are to draw
lines which smile, frown designed, while vision poor
interferes, and adds unsought distraction.
In health, free from nervous petrifaction
few seek out illness, won’t by choice explore
the options close to those that chance, gene flaw
or accident are trapped, lose speech, sight, traction.
Fresh emphasis on disabilities
should top the list of our priorities.

5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XVII - Temptations


Blessed externals force the mind to turn

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Bell's Palsy XVI - To Test Frontiers

Bell's Palsy XVI - To Test Frontiers


Inertia catalyzes swift reaction
testing limits unbeknownst before,
experienced elsewhere, though, we ignore
discomforts which might hamper freedom, action.
Impervious to muscular contraction,
left eyelid, lip, unable are to draw
lines which smile, frown designed, while vision poor
interferes, and adds unsought distraction.
In health, free from nervous petrifaction
few seek out illness, won’t by choice explore
the options close to those that chance, gene flaw
or accident are trapped, lose speech, sight, traction.
Fresh emphasis on disabilities
should top the list of our priorities.

5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XVII - Temptations


Blessed externals force the mind to turn
within to test perception shared by all
who, sight curtailed, or lost beyond recall,
must grasp at straws, effect and cause discern,
too well aware temptations bridges burn.
First impressions seem attaitned, ball
‘questions aye’s and no’s’, past free-for-all
is circumcised, undertain seems return
to ‘normalcy’ which, hitherto could earn
approval’s hallmark stamp. Cramps now forestall
options infinite. Cut and dried, in thrall,
one’s tied who far and wide went, wit withdrawn
from choice unlimited as on this page
fragility highlights restictive cage.


5 December 2007



Bell's Palsy XVIII - Fragility


Ink flows as if it knows that tale once writ
cannot rephrase a passing phase whose light

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Bell's Palsy XVII - Temptations

Bell's Palsy XVII - Temptations


Blessed externals force the mind to turn
within to test perception shared by all
who, sight curtailed, or lost beyond recall,
must grasp at straws, effect and cause discern,
too well aware temptations bridges burn.
First impressions seem attaitned, ball
‘questions aye’s and no’s’, past free-for-all
is circumcised, undertain seems return
to ‘normalcy’ which, hitherto could earn
approval’s hallmark stamp. Cramps now forestall
options infinite. Cut and dried, in thrall,
one’s tied who far and wide went, wit withdrawn
from choice unlimited as on this page
fragility highlights restictive cage.


5 December 2007



Bell's Palsy XVIII - Fragility


Ink flows as if it knows that tale once writ
cannot rephrase a passing phase whose light
too soon extinguished must merge into night
where sot or sage blot page, through age unfit.
We’re puppets strung, hands wrung won’t change a bit
repeated role enforced by karmic spite.
If free-will reigns, there’s no pre-destined right
or wrong, no rung to heav’n, no roasting spit.
Through ‘accident’ or ‘fate’ fragility
in spotlight’s thrown, ‘to be, or not to be
depends upon coincidence where rules
few follow with prescient authority.
Manage man age when palsied dry eye’s numb
is out of reach with speech deformed, near dumb.


5 December 2007 revised 17 January 2008

Bell's Palsy XIX - Moving Finger Writes


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