The Classic Course

               Others took a classic course 
                   in pondering the muse. 
               I explored more recent routes 
                for want of more to choose. 

              I found a lady washed with white 
                   I found an angry man. 
                Then found a lack of subjects 
                   for this adoring fan.

Broken Hearts…

               Broken hearts are not precise -- 
                  they have no metronome. 
               There is no urgency to beat -- 
                  no rhythm to their song. 

             Such hearts disgrace their owners 
                  by bursting out of hand. 
              Will not be calmed nor pacified, 
                  nor silenced on demand.

A Bitter Pill…

              Who will find my grief for me? 
                    I cannot look alone. 
             Its aspect is too harsh to bear -- 
                   a bitter pill to own.

Back when I was electrified

                Back when I was electrified 
               I flowed with dazzling light. 
              I coalesced and turned about -- 
                 My tantrums lit the night. 

           I darkened days through force of will; 
                  laid siege upon the land 
             I flooded it with rain and sleet, 
                 then pelted it with sand. 

            My passions knocked the seas around 
                   in watery convulsions. 
           While men made small and vain attempts 
                  to limit my compulsions. 

           But now I find my strength has waned -- 
                No lightenings heed my call. 
                 No cateclysms fill the air 
                  and so confirm my fall. 

                I seek to reinstate myself, 
              break forth with angry thunder. 
              While worldly forces lay in wait 
                  to tear me all asunder. 

                  Were I again electrified, 
               consumed once more with power. 
           I'd storm the earth from end to end -- 
                  assault it by the hour.

Big Bang

             Why would anyone build a world 
                  designed to fall apart? 
             Byproduct of some cosmic blast -- 
                  a great celestial fart. 

             What could cause this space debris
                 to form itself in chains? 
                Bound by finite mortal forms 
                and doomed to cold remains. 

                Why should a vacuous expanse 
                 collapse to mold a heart? 
              When better sense would indicate 
                 a preference not to start. 

             What makes a single cell multiply 
              to change its form and function? 
             When all its bold attempts at life 
                will end with final unction. 

                How can the human soul exist 
               enslaved by earthly pleasures? 
              When all along its passion burns 
              like piles of earthly treasures.

AIDS II

               I broke my heart again today 
              and spread the world with tears. 
             At first I thought to save myself 
                but then was lost to fears. 

             I hungered for the good old days, 
               and more for good old friends. 
                I wept when I awoke to find 
                  they'd met unhappy ends.

Queen of fire

                       Queen of fire; 
                       Pele's friend. 
                       Bride's desire 
                     with time to lend. 

                       Brilliant muse 
                    from comets twinned. 
                       Summer's peak; 
                      sweet dividend.

intimidation

                  Intimidation of the soul 
                  by unsuspecting mortals, 
               Tends to cause a tender heart 
                 to close away its portals. 

                Often this poor consequence 
                   is subject to belief, 
               And never having been applied 
                   will offer up relief.

Rage.

                  Anger is a weak excuse 
                  for what I need to feel. 
                    Fury comes no closer 
                  made feeble by my zeal. 

                 Rage is just another word; 
                     immature emotion. 
                 Ferocious urges soothe me, 
                    earning my devotion.

Prayer

         I say my prayers in the name of the Father -- 
           in whose Name so many were slaughtered, 
          their blood flowing back through history, 
              to prehistory . . . and beyond. 

          I say my prayers in the name of the Son -- 
                 He who is Christ our Lord, 
                    Who was born a man, 
                     Lived and died -- 
               all in the name of the Father. 

            I pray in the name of the Spirit -- 
   Whose blessings are beyond my meager understanding . . . 
       and yet are not enough to stop the slaughter -- 
              done in the name of the Father.

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