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Articles

The Neophyte

Details

you can do most anything

but I

can only soar and fly:

your wounds

often most painful and deep

do always heal

but I

should I break a wing

would die

The Poem

The Scholars

Details

the men of chess

they sat around

today there was no game

and yet, some how

in their idle chatter

their roles

they kept the same:

 

the pawn

he moved ahead on times

with view

from side to side

 

the knight

although with larger steps

showed no goals

nor specific design

 

and the bishop and rook

with their tunnel view

looked ahead and sometimes behind

 

And the king

oh, yes,

he never moved

and rarely

changed

his mind

The Neophyte

The Teacher

Details

 

Procrustes lives beyond the hill

 And welcomes each as he comes by

It seems relief he offers each

That stops for breath or moment's sigh

Invites each on to stay the night

To have some stew, and eat some rye

 

 Procrustes is a demagogue

 Believes that all men should conform

That all men have a certain size

According to their fated norm

And if he dares to deviate

Will quickly help him to reform

 

 He has two beds of different size

One bed is large, the other small

It does not matter what his size

He'll fit if he is short or tall

And if per chance he does not fit

He'll throw a rage and screech and bawl

 

 He'll grab this mortal of ill fate

For destiny in not a whim

He'll tell him what his size should be

That this one bed is just for him

And either stretch him into shape

Or just saw off his too-long limb

The Truth 

 

Procrustes lives beyond the hill

And welcomes each as he comes by

It seems relief he offers each

That stops for breath or moment's sigh

Invites each on to stay the night

To have some stew, and eat some rye

 

Procrustes is a demagogue

Believes that all men should conform

That all men have a certain size

According to their fated norm

And if he dares to deviate

Will quickly help him to reform

 

He has two beds of different size

One bed is large, the other small

It does not matter what his size

He'll fit if he is short or tall

And if per chance he does not fit

He'll throw a rage and screech and bawl

 

He'll grab this mortal of ill fate

For destiny in not a whim

The Truth

Details

Truth

Casts a shadow

That weights

A thousand ton

 

That shadow

Is a mountain

Made of the hardest

Of all granite stone

 

But the truth

Itself

Merely a grain of sand

That blocks out

Some light

Close to the sun

The Scholars

The Poet

Details

He rode on a wild black stallion

With no reign, nor bridle, nor saddle

Nor carried a banner, or shield, or lance

Nor sang a hymn or an anthem

 

 

He followed no path nor trodden road

Nor quest nor noble design

But was driven by the wind and the rain

To quench a still hidden passion

The Teacher

   

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