Tarot Reading

I read my tarot cards yesterday, and my prospects are ambiguous as ever.
I drew the 6 of Swords, the 4 of Cups, the 2 of Coins, and the 3 of Wands, then tried to make sense of it all . . .

Drifting along on the sea of despair
A spiritless vessel in need of repair
Listless and longing for solace or more
Hoping for berth on some genial shore

Passively riding the wake of the tide
In danger of sinking too deeply inside
Lost in a tangle of inner reflection
Blind to this offer of saintly protection

Juggling options with ease and finesse
Sailing the waves with such effortlessness
Follow the clown in his balancing act
Bend with the breeze and never look back

Gazing out over the uncharted oceans
Looking ahead through the sea of emotions
Beyond every boundary and all the restrictions
Somewhere out yonder lie deeper convictions

Seasons of Eden

Mad Gods and Dogma 4/28/08

From the black womb of night I entered stage left
Out of the void with my conscience bereft
With no sense of discipline ethics or order
‘Tween Heaven and Hell, I sat on the border

I’ve spent my life looking for reasons to live
Transgressing through vices and deeds to forgive
Peering through darkness in search of the light
Waiting for morning to conquer the night

I’ve blinded myself by the rays of the sun
Inflating my ego in search of good fun
Ignoring the link between Heaven and earth
I followed the mammon and wallowed in mirth

I saw movies with justice and questioned the truth
Of a good book that teaches a tooth for a tooth
A mouthful of molder I reckoned as much
Believing in only those things I could touch

I sat through the morning in shadows of doubt
Looking for guidance to point the way out
From inside the whale and alone with my thoughts
Just gazing within at the colorful spots

I’ve spent my days seeking some mystical force
Desperate to locate the ultimate source
Tracking the planets and mapping the stars
Scratching out poems and banging guitars

I’ve spent my time testing the waters of reason
Wanting a flower that blooms every season
Thirsty for answers that won’t be refuted
The river, I fear, has been badly polluted

I’ve studied the ways of an angel’s ascent
And relayed the message in time to repent
The wheel of fortune turns mountains to sand
The hero returns with a gift in his hand

But is there some vortex of unification?
A heavenly father who fostered creation?
Some read the Gospel and some look to Allah
But I can see wisdom inside the mandala

I’ve squandered a lifetime inside of a square
Resisting the tension of fire and air
While water and earth make up pillars of mud
Though none can survive the perennial flood

In a corner I’ve wasted a good chunk of time
Paradise lost with my reason and rhyme
The apple of Eden had poisoned my mind
An ocean of wisdom I still hope to find

Beyond the horizon of good versus evil
Return to the birthplace in utter upheaval
The profane and the sacred united as one
And the spiritual journey has only begun

After Life

After Life 4/28/08

I was barely fourteen when my grandpa departed
That’s when my thoughts on the afterlife started
I’m told that his blood cells were poisoned by cancer
I asked what came next but they gave me no answer

At eighty plus years of impeccable health
Leukemia struck him with terminal stealth
In a matter of weeks it reduced him to waste
The blessing I’ve learned was the factor of haste

A short decade later his scion fell ill
But father’s disease would take longer to kill
The plague in his nerves was a modern-day torture
And fight it he did with great patience and ardour

Though hardly uncommon, this bane he endured
The doctors admitted it couldn’t be cured
So pills were prescribed for intended relief
With no more success than an Indian chief

Handfuls of pain meds consumed every hour
As if they possessed some exceptional power
Needles and potions and treatments were tested
But Parkinson’s progress could not be arrested

With each passing year we could see him grow worse
And watching him suffer was no less a curse
Looking for something to lessen his anguish
Desperate to do more than let him just languish

I stood by his side to prevent him from falling
As he stood by me, when I was still crawling
At one time advising me, teaching and coaching
The tables were turned with his old age encroaching

In a ball on the floor, full of pain in the night
I mumbled and told him it’ll all be alright
He mumbled too and I bent down to hear
His face without color, his eyes full of fear

So why do I speak of this all in past tense?
The outcome we know for it bears no suspense
Patiently waiting we button our breath
Living in peace with the shadow of death

Our hopes for his comeback are somewhat absurd
Everyone knows that this thing can’t be cured
It won’t last forever, so somebody said
The heartache will stop when my father is dead

As If

If you can bear the brunt of a thousand callous elbows
And hold your ground among a throng of hungry fellows
If you can stand the stench of liars who rise above you
And keep your thoughts on the one or two who love you
If you can bend over backwards with stress and tension
Or stand up tall with undivided attention
Or lean from right to left with ease
And not just wiggle in the breeze

If you can sense your tragic flaw and give yourself a laugh
Or lift a shining kernel from a crusty stack of chaff
If you can chase the spirit of wanting that burns a man’s heart
And loosen the desire before it tears your soul apart
If you can drink from both cups of joy and sorrow
Or wait for now and drink tomorrow
Or see that coins are all two-sided
And know your fate is not decided

If you can take a page of Kipling and follow every letter
Or find your heroes’ faults and do their deeds one better
If you can stand alone and know that you’re right
And surrender your words for good works in plain sight
If you can bite your tongue and accept it with grace
Or let your thoughts go drifting in space
Or focus your mind on everything pleasant
And know that forever survives in the present

If you can forgive the crimes of those who write the rules
And let go of the past and the pranks and prep schools
Without forgetting what you stand for and why
And never believing its useless to try
If you can do what you can to steer clear of strife
And act with respect toward all forms of life
You’ll be the pillar, and carved out of wood
And – what’s more – you’ll be misunderstood

Absolute Zero

Can you picture a planet where people mean nothing?
Where the spirit is weak and the flesh is for stuffing?
What kind of world would we all have to live in?
This I believe is the one we were given

Art has no value unless you disguise it
Peace has no purpose till somebody buys it
Love is an asset that merchants endorse
To sell you more flowers and books on divorce

Honor means war with a valid excuse
A buildup of rockets we’ll never reduce
Stop those who challenge the message of Jesus
And conflict will end when the Middle East freezes

Once you’ve defended your standard of living
High praise is offered to things like forgiving
Turn the left cheek, it’s what he would do
A lesson for Romans, but not me and you

Integrity stands like some ancient Greek goddess
Carved out of marble unable to prod us
A classical fiction or outdated hero
Whose virtue today is worth absolute zero

Victory

Victory At Any Cost (April 8, 2008)

General Petraeus, your mission is dragging
Cheney is willing but spirits are sagging
Vict’ry you say is round the next corner
Explain to the mothers who wait by the coroner

The specious invasion at five years and counting
Our country it suffers from backwards accounting
Library hours grow shorter and shorter
Money for textbooks they’re spending on mortar

The bloodshed increases and George doesn’t see
He said it was finished in May of 03
Each day your forecast grows fairer and fairer
When did that country get riddled by terror?

With 4,000 dead, on our side alone
It’s too soon for towels or fits to be thrown
Now is the time to be hopeful and strong
But glasses in deserts aren’t half full for long

I hope we aren’t half as dumb as you think
The longer we stay so the deeper we sink
Protecting your honor, young gentlemen die
While Exxon sees profits go straight through the sky

You entered their land with a force of deceit
And coming back home is the mark of defeat
So send the boys in for another attack
If you had your way they would never come back

I Pledge A Meanness

I pledge a meanness to the man
Who schemes and conspires for power
But oh how the mighty do fall
From grace to perdition
From faith to sedition
With lust and dishonor for all

Equine Amity

The End All Be All

Three horsemen and I went riding this morning
And raising our voices we issued a warning
To speak of such matters so often untold
Together we witnessed a new day unfold

Out of the darkness with twilight emerging
The omens of ruin were gravely converging
So four of us mounted our colorful horses
Divinely invoking our farsighted forces

Bad news was broadcast all over the herd
Of famine and pestilence not to be cured
Drawn from the quiver my arrows let loose
And fell like a plague that was sent down from Zeus

My fellow beside me on cinnamon steed
Announced to all races, regardless of creed:
Beware the production of weapons galore
Your earth will be scorched and divided by war

In the streets of Japan where our bugles resounded
The next seal opened and man was astounded
Two cities submitted to Hell’s trumpet call
Till nothing was standing, no tree stump at all

On ebony bronco my next mate he measured
Four cups of wheat, and unfairly treasured
Before you go hungry, consider the reasons
Why flooding and droughts have been flouting the seasons

A hot wind is roaring with sea levels rising
Tornadoes in Europe no longer surprising
Now cyclones blow madly and gloom they betoken
Just see how the towers and levees are broken

Offering wisdom we hoped they would hear it
Atop my white stallion I spoke with great spirit
Into the masses where businessmen stirred
But over the din went the message unheard

It’s only themselves to whom they’ve been lying
For no sum of money can keep them from dying
Rose-colored glasses and rich sugar coating
Nothing can sweeten the taste of foreboding

Still they remain disinclined to believe us
It’s ever much easier not to receive us
The words that we utter are simply ignored
But the sisters of Fortune will deal the reward

Finally our colleague comes riding behind us
Thin, pale and pasty as if to remind us
The news we declare is a doom we must share
When death wields the scythe, not a life will he spare

Our fate has been sealed and nothing can save us
For these are the days when doom shall enslave us