Blind blank verse poet, serving God not kings,
Whose hero deemed it better to rule Hell
Than live and serve in Heaven under God,
The ultimate king ruling everything.
Tempting Eve and Adam with rebelling
Against the highest authority: God,
To eat and know the difference between
Good and evil and be able to choose
Which path to walk and who they wish to serve
Using reason and their God-given brains,
Not forced down a path by threats, guilt, and fear.
Was it evil pride that led to freedom,
Or a righteous revolt among Angels?
Did you have sympathy for the Fallen,
Having endorsed the killing of a king?
Or did God have the divine right to rule
That the steward Charles was sorely lacking?
Was old Blake right about you all the time,
A true poet and member of Satan’s
Party without ever even knowing?
Illustration is Watercolor Illustration to Milton’s Paradise Lost by William Blake. Found on Wikimedia Commons.
Regrets of the past,
The allure of the future,
Yet neither exist:
The only thing that’s real is
What is happening right now.
In response to Colleen’s 2018 #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 77: CHARM & TIME, #SnyonymsOnly.
In Empty robes
Lingering outside of perception
Near the corner of your eye
Over your shoulder
Behind the mirror.
Written in response to the Daily Post‘s prompt: Faceless.
A lone voice cries in the night,
Echoing through the wilderness
Down canyons and through caves,
Dissipating into darkness.
Ears deafen themselves
To what they’d rather not hear:
Hard truths that disturb the soul
With the simple taste of truth,
But open to easily digestible
Sugar coated lies
And pleasant fantasies
That sooth and numb
A single thing.
Walking nameless streets
In uncertain times
Among sunken eyes
And gray faced vagabonds,
Down dark shadow alleys
And deserted dead-end streets.
Gleaming glass towers
The vomit filled sewers
Of a more common life
Clutching precious possessions,
White knuckles in the rain.
Losing soul and sanity
Standing waist deep in gutter sewage,
The promise of salvation
Left forever unanswered.
Not in ecstasy,
Nor anger, nor agony.
Find the middle path
‘Tween ascetic and excess
Free from suffering and grief.
My response to Colleen’s 2018 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 76: JOY & FURY, #SnyonymnsOnly.
The Sun is shining,
Light escaping darkened clouds,
Warmth through frozen air.
Bird perched on a branch
In a naked leaf-less tree,
Then he flies away
A single moment
Is all that truly exists,
No past; no future.
One moment in which to act,
One moment in which to make a change.
Its all falling apart
Like slow cooked rib meat,
Sliding off the bone like butter,
Leaving it naked and exposed.
Once strong protector of heart and lungs
Grown dry and brittle,
A touch away from dust,
Under the noon day sun.