Inheritance

Tags

fairy tales, love, Poem, Poetry, Princess Bride, Sonnet, terza rima

The maid employed a quiet, peasant man
who set about his work with fortitude
and finished all the chores within her plan

or planlessness, as whims her aptitude.
Yet, cheerfully without the first complain
he kept a smug contented attitude.

Then, came the day that squeamish boys disdain.
She showed affection asking for a dish,
replying he, as never quite so plain.

Outholding pitcher with a sly flourish,
he bowed, and smiled in answer, “As you wish.”

(Written for A Form for All at DversePoets, a terza rima sonnet.  A bit whimsical, but I felt the need to write something!  )

Advertisements

The Scales of Justice

Tags

America, empire, freedom, happiness, hunger, McDonalds, obesity, Poem, Poetry, Sonnet, wisdom

American overconsumption reigns
its lofty heft in a fattening plan
with happy meals from kids to femme and man,
no taste unbound until the belt restrains.
The happy pursuit in mindless refrains
leaves starved the brain with the caloric sin,
the hollow of want for wisdoms within,
an Esau trade for tshirts’ greasy stains.

Yet, sheep and cattle fields yield ram and bull
to keep the flock and herd in circused bread;
their horns of war to wage the world around,
a diasporic force, the Empire’s pull
of wealth to feed this famished land of dread.
As freedoms lost, they find another pound.

( submitted for a FormForAll over at DversePoets)

The Soliloquy

Tags

Nature, Poem, Poetry, preservation, Sonnet, technology

Black fog, amorphous, scrawls o’er land and sea
to swarm its fingers turning stones (them all)
with silvered, gilded, oiled machinery
for replicating fearful minds’ enthrall.
The fractured ones must fall to pit’s despair
or soil denatured pride in wallowed heights
or free their flesh by bearing nought a care,
enslaving minds for gain with hallowed weights.
Yet, life, around, does suffer for the man,
whose image of himself will finely fail.
With Gaia bedding Mars to thwart his plan,
Will men endure, or cry – forgotten wail?
Intelligence must tend to fightful scene.
Can we surpass to peace, remains unseen ?

It’s open link night over at dVersePoets. Pull up a stool, and wax bard-like. 🙂