Author Archives: JRL

No Substitute for Progress: qasida

Salutations and our greeting. Welcome to this special meeting. As you know, our time is fleeting, so please take your assigned seating. We control a heart that’s beating. Ever forward, no retreating. Never mind the lambs, their bleating will grow … Continue reading

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Dog in the Rain: Burns stanza

When the gods start bowling in the sky,
my wee, little dog starts in to cry
and seeks a spot secure and up high,
tucked behind my head.
She whines ’til the thunderstorm goes by
and will not go to bed. Continue reading

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No Time: rimas dissolutas

There is no time, we cannot start again.
The clocks do not run backwards on command,
nor do the years reverse their gears on queue.

You cannot substitute a now for then,
nor rearrange the instance where you stand.
There is no try again, just simply do. Continue reading

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With a Whisper: rhopalic verse

A little whispering, un-hearable
by any listening un-awakened,
can convey purposeful information.

It appears trivial, unimportant,
to someone expecting revelation,
but supports meaningful activity.

On hearing transmitted encouragement,
the human animal transmogrifies.
It becomes completely integrated. Continue reading

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Watching the Sunset: rannaigheacht ghairid

Who am I
to wonder at earth and sky
from such a small, useless spot?
I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

It seems odd,
to ponder fate, time and god,
to waste time at such a game.
All the same, my plan’s not flawed. Continue reading

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The Dancing Bells: quintilla

The world seems so out of balance.
Perhaps it’s only me and mine.
Sometimes the music for the dance
makes every step a dotted line
with the next motion left to chance.

The world keeps spinning, just the same.
It doesn’t matter if the tune
is out of rhythm. Who’s to blame
when one foot shifts its weight too soon?
It’s just a dance. It’s just a game. Continue reading

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Outside the Cage: Sicilian quintet

Physical confinement has its source
in some external entity that binds.
It is imposed by outside will, of course.
But slavery is not just of that kind;
your mind’s created prisons reinforce

the limitations you are taught to see,
the walls that form the edges of the box
in which you play out your brief history. Continue reading

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