"Vowels and Vows," "Scimitar," and "No Muse"

Vowels And Vows

Depth
dharma
ancient texts speak:
Enlightenment is obviously
a thing of the past.
I speak from the bowels
of history
the vowels
of poets.
The vows
of oldest marriages –
of Dawn
with the night,
morning
with twilight,
love
with destiny,
ego
with retribution
quiet times with
the eternal fight.

Scimitar

The restraining blade of the rich
is daunting, is a done deal
because who’s taking it away?
Not them.
The perfectly honed scimitar
vibrating with its sharpness
restricts all movements against it.
It is just there. It is such an
arms-folded presence how can
                  you move?
Against any strong blade
      held against your throat?

It is only in numbers in swelling numbers
that we can revolt and push back
with some sacrifice, lots of sacrifice.
Fuck the rich. They are the assholes of power.
An asshole is an asshole and not a sword.
Their tight grip on our destiny is dissolving.
The crack of dawn cradles a new era
and opens into a new day. Nature, nature, nature
is on our side.
A putrid God of oppression and suppression
is on theirs.

No Muse

with nothing to say the said is said
having left the scene no message coming back
why not shut up shut up
cricket chirping in the room for the 3^rd night
trombone on the radio playing back to the chirps
turn the radio off, can’t turn off the cricket,
I’ve learned to listen, thanks to John Cage,
for surprises.
But all I hear now is a ringing in my ears
and the pulse of my heart beating.
In the other room the TV gets turned on
      from lack of sleep, but very faint.
Outside as I almost fell down in the dark
      going out there
Venus is right above a crescent moon.
Thin clouds obscure most everything else.