‘Our right! Our right! Out right to shoot and kill if we will, day or night!’
But what about the right to live without fear, without gunshots to hear
In classrooms and halls, to play on grounds without the sound of terror?
And when we look at the bodies of innocence, which the gunman took,
Can we turn away yet again to begin again another political argument,
Chalking up slain youth as no more than more statistic to be counted?
Or is it not time to confront the crime of senseless violence in reliance
Upon unnecessary, deadly weapons that really no one needs to be free,
If only we could see and apprehend the liberty that comes with peace,
And now cease our insane proclivity toward death and destruction
In protection of the weak and the vulnerable and innocent among us,
Rather than preserving outdated rights to self-armament and murder
Category: Childhood
Human Trinity: A Childhood Fantasy
Remembering the first time we ever met, me and you under skies so blue
With hues of red and pink and inky clouds on one fine, pretty day in May,
And you so rough and rugged with a flare for sports that I could not bear
And me so odd and different and bent to the esoteric atmosphere of life,
Seeing what others could not see and hearing what others could not hear,
Yet it all seemed normal to me and to my lovely brother, Jamie, my heart
And my better part, ever and always, but you came along in golden song,
With skin so smooth and tan, flashing smile and piercing eyes, and strong
And we looked across the ground and instantly found one common soul,
And no one ever knew that two young boys could ever be like tide and sea,
So very free when bound so closely and yet so different, except my Jamie,
And he made three-in-one, an almost divinely-human holy communion
In which we each remained ourselves while inseparable in loving union
Note: Although I do have one brother, he is 10 years older and his name is not “Jamie,” who is simply one blessed part of this childhood fantasy.
Brothers
Comfort of brothers in true love’s hold forevermore
With no distance unbridgeable between two hearts
Beating together in symphonious adoration of joy
That comes when simply being together ~ brother
To brother ~ without another betwixt or between
To sever such an heavenly bond forged in the fires
Of eternal flames burning on the altars of Arcadia
As one rests so safely upon the bosom of the other
~ brother companions and lover friends evermore ~
Night Flowers of the Child
Bring me flowers of night dear child of light
In your flight of fancy so high, so wild,
Never meek nor mild in this waking dream
When we now possess only what is best
In youth taking wing to bring down a star
From afar off in heaven while we sing,
And smiles come from the flowers you bring
Boyhood Hero, or The Rescuer
For you to make my rescue by silver sharp interruption
Of bland childhood in hues of lovingly brave exaltation
By an insurrection of the heart without incrimination
And my soul dreamed of only your beauty and my duty
To an elegant hero rescuing me from prosaic childhood
For the good of imagination being perfectly understood
With me resting in your strong arms safe from all harm
Laughter
Dancing round the tree
You laugh so freely
For all souls to see
What you bring to me
In earth, sky, and sea
Forever to be
Declared not guilty
To be at liberty
Speckles of Freckles
Speckles of freckles splashed across your face
With dancing eyes lancing all who look in joy
At the prancing spirit welling up from inside
Of an open heart occupied by love amplified
By heaven with leavening grace in sure place
Of everything that should be right by the light
Of an immortal youth never fading or abating
Place Love Above All: An Abhanga
Placing love above all
In the heart of a child
So very free and wild
To kiss sweet cheek
New song sung for the young
Who’ve just begun to dance
With cosmic happenstance
On world’s bright stage
Now comes the vision free
Of brighter tomorrow
With what God will bestow
In liberty
Note: The abhanga, an Indian form of poetry, means “the completion” and is a stanzaic form commonly used for devotional poetic composition although it has also been used for cynicism, satire and reflective moods. It was popular from the 13th thru 17th centuries Marathi Region of India and is described as complex and classic.
The Abhanga is:
- stanzaic, written in any number of quatrains (4 line stanzas).
- syllabic, 6/6/6/4 syllables each
- L2 and L3 rhyme. Often internal rhyme is employed. End rhyme scheme x a a x , x being unrhymed.
The All-Alone Prince
One boy stands in the grand kingdom hall with ball in hand,
But no one with whom to play as yet another day slips away,
And it might as well be made of sand, this castle unmanned;
But in the distance he could hear the brilliance of happiness
Across the land as citizens played in cascade of joy unafraid,
And so he looked around, thought and tried to make sense…
This one lonely boy, this all-alone prince
He struggles to recall when he had last heard another footfall
Even very sedately in this stately mansion with no companion
Upon whose breast to lay his weary head, no chest with heart,
But only stone statues to mock with bone crushing vacant eyes
And lies of life never to come into his cold, stone castle home,
Yet he could almost see on the breeze sweet-smelling incense,
This one lonely boy, this all-alone prince
He ventures into formal dinning hall lined with tall windows,
Solid oak table set with fine china, crystal for wine so divine,
But no feast as yet blesses the board for this very young lord,
Whose peaceful people eat well from their own storage cells,
And of their dinner he caught whiff as he grew ever thinner,
And gold he’d have sold for a friend but he had not a pence…
This one lonely boy, this all-alone prince
One lonely boy lies down to die beneath silver silken sheets,
To listen to the slowing beats of heart, to play a better part
In realms much higher where the fire of life is ever burning,
No spirit churning for love, caught in despair, peace sought
But never brought into the soul seeking soothing serenity,
To this grandest destiny his greatest journey to commence,
This one lonely boy, this all-alone prince
Promise of the Yawn of New Dawn
I look high up into the night sky to stars and moon above,
And try to imagine all of life gone by,
But the promise of dawning just yawning on far horizon
Turns my heart to enliven my soul…
Not too many years have passed to leave me harassed
By febrility, confining me to senility,
So there is hope beyond the scope of such time gone by,
Forming an allotrope to coming days
That will surely lead me in different ways than ere before
In an adventure for me now in store!
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