What would deem biding our critical concern?
What tolerably deep association would we learn?
Is it fair to firmly assert we utterly understand?
What has loomed and shielded stiff mend?
Do we promptly make every second count?
Is it sprung to say we are doomed to idly die to flout?
Heed the placid quiddity we are endeavoring.
It is drifting us by, oblivious of our lone value levering.
Is it genuine that these requests typically exist?
Because of the way that nobody can be sure?
They overshadow you like a goliath can desist.
It's unsatisfactory what the disposals efficiently are.
The vista is sorrowful, and the future looks bleak.
We expect a required course yet lack the will to seek.
Written: December 12, 2021
Icarus
I have been so fascinated by Icarus my dream was to fly closer to
the sun than man or god dared.
I had the good fortune of meeting a mad scientist at a wine tasting
contest, where our capacity for the wine was appreciated.
He had a type of wax that could withstand intense heat.
I did not hesitate to order a pair of wings.
I flew higher than any god had done before, but the heat
was so intense the wax began to melt.
Like a rocket, I dived back to earth hoping to meet water.
Splashed down into the Barents ocean.
My body, now covered in wax kept me afloat and tolerably warm
till some Russian fishermen picked me up.
They kept me warm and snug till I sat there in my boiler suit
gave me a warm coat taking me into Vladivostok if I remember rightly.
Pravda, the Russian newspaper, got hold of my exploit and printed my story on the first page, but who reads Pravda?
The local TV also interviewed me, but who looks at Russian TV?
I´m a hero in Russia but ignored by the rest of the world,
this happens when politics get in the way of a heroic deed.
Comparisons are unerring things at worst;
Every common ore yielded for shinier gold,
And tepid junkets given up in apt forfeiture
For tolerably pricier carats unsullied stored.
Far less treasured lots perpetually stand
In shrouded paths to more pleasing deal,
And more often than not emit lures bland
To fade jollities owners of finer gems feel.
Prudent choosers are harder to hoodwink;
They're grateful to know how to swiftly tell
Vast variance between wee penny's worth
And huger wads quiet past old minas' kink.
They're merrier types closer to Midas lips;
Smarter-thinking pickers noted with strips
Of fair Fortune's higher turns beyond taste,
Loftier than Fancy's dreams and her haste.
With comparative logic one never can err,
Since brighter minds cheap choices abhor.
Most rigorous astrology can hardly divine
Why flamy galactic orbs often burning fall;
Or the calm pull behind shiniest meteorites'
Hurtling lower from their neat nestlings tall.
I own that apt eyes as of the lauded Magi may
From starry ciphers tap signs of a coming day;
Yet no tiny mass among the fiery marvels high,
Can answer when first they graced the idle sky.
While I'd rate their near-syzygies tolerably rare,
I know ethereal balls as bereft of all oral strain.
All sheen but full non-awareness of birth-date,
Ought to render these speechless vapors vain.
What telescoped forms of dumb orbitings mute
Might imbue with insight in placid images cute
Any salient squinter into thick lens herebelow,
Where tiptop harps and strung wonders bore?
Astrologers and their crafty stars will sweat to tell,
Where and when their augury-warped instincts fell.