From time to time it is important to remind ourselves of past glory
But it is even more important to remember who we are
And where we are going
We must pursue, and ultimately fulfill our destiny
And let lesser men stand aside.
When our time comes
Let them divert a river, and under it build us a tomb
And let us rest forever in peace
Frozen once again
In the safety of our mother’s womb.
Shalako Publishing. A showcase of poetry, art, music, and whatever else we can jam in here.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Sunday, April 8, 2012
A rustle in the long grass.
There was a rustle in the long grass
When the tiger came to eat me
He was slow and I was fast
With two good legs to take me
And there always is that sober thought
The tiger is just playing
He never seems to ask himself
Why do I even play at all?
For one of these days, the way things are going
One of us will surely catch up with the other.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Poem: Two Paths.
There are two paths.
One is easy.
And one is hard.
Which one, do you think,
Will be the more rewarding?
これには
つのパスがあります
つは簡単です
困難です
つと思いますか、詳細に報われるだろうか
One is easy.
And one is hard.
Which one, do you think,
Will be the more rewarding?
これには
つのパスがあります
つは簡単です
困難です
つと思いますか、詳細に報われるだろうか
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Please pass the axe.
...then the awful fight began. (George Wright.)
From the Poetic Edda:
It sates itself on the life-blood
of fated men,
paints red the powers' homes
with crimson gore.
Black become the sun's beams
in the summers that follow,
weathers all treacherous.
Do you still seek to know? And what?
***
Brothers will fight
and kill each other,
sisters' children
will defile kinship.
It is harsh in the world,
whoredom rife
—an axe age, a sword age
—shields are riven—
a wind age, a wolf age—
before the world goes headlong.
No man will have
mercy on another
Thursday, February 23, 2012
The rain is falling, gently through the trees
A dove gives a mournful call
I wonder what he sees
Newborn child a-bawling?
Or just the futility of it all.
He told me once, a wise old owl
Very good advice, to get me through it all
The glass is either half-empty or half-full
It says a lot about you
The choices that you call.
The rain is falling, gently through the trees
A chipmunk sits there laughing
I wonder what he sees.
(Appears in Selected Poems, available from Smashwords and coming to other retailers soon.)
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