Tell Me, Knight

A serpent’s hiss from an oozing pestilent mouth,

” What weapon will you choose, when you come to challenge me in the dark?”.

“What armor will guard your soft organs from my jagged claws, my ripping fangs?”.

“Will the heft of the axe comfort your approach?”.

“Perhaps the keen bright edge of a well honed blade?”.

“Will you come with the stride of a gun’s weight on your waist?”.

“Tell me, Knight!”, the Thing gleefully, horridly cackled, certain of It’s victory.

The Warrior stepped from shadow with barefoot, silent tread.

No armor betrayed his approach.

No axe or long knife encumbered his hand to ring off the stone walls.

No gun unbalanced his gait on the rough ground.

Striking the small light he held in his left hand, he stood before the Thing.

“What madness is this? The thing spat, coiling in surprise.

Calmly, without anger the Warrior spoke.

“No madness, I’ve carried with me all I need.”,

“A heart without fear.”,

“A light to find the path.”,

“A glass to reflect the truth.”.

The polished glass in his right hand, raised aloft,

caught the Thing’s eye for but a heartbeat,

it was enough.










Congratulations! (a diatribe)

I’d like to take a moment

and acknowledge the enormous success

achieved by those magnates of

modern industrial society.


The battle was by no means an easy one

opposed by truth at every turn

motivated by nothing more

than the desire for financial gain


What stunningly ingenious fabrications

cut from whole cloth

how reasonable their presentation

made them appear


Integrity, morality, ethics

unhesitatingly sacrificed

on a golden altar

in the name of wealth


What glittering wonders

of technology

sold at exorbitant prices

you can afford to buy!


Still, with overflowing billfold

what coinage is required

for the washing away of stain

from a corrupt heart?






Civil Conversation

Less and less patient

I find myself,

with the empty, trifling

etiquette of civility.


Such polite mannerisms

meant to preserve,

delicate sensibilities

which are themselves

in costume.


How unfashionable!

to speak directly,

of one’s circumstances

when asked.


Couch the response

termed so,

that it hints at an answer

bearing no sharp edges.


Pay the compliments

unearned, undeserved,

insincere though they are.


praise highly!

achievements so minute

they resemble wisps

of sunrise mist.


Treat subjects of deep consequence


certainly we are above

such concerns.


Hardly worth mention,

a failed crop, a drought, famine

in light of the impending release

of the season’s theatre schedule.









A Lesson on Truth

Pray find here a lesson

that all men should know,

A lie rumbles like thunder

truth falls as the snow,

falsehoods must be bellowed loudly

to be heard

truth needs little more

than a whisper of words,

Deceit hides itself buried

‘neath piles of verse

truth comes to us bare

to be blessed or be cursed.