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Tag Archives: illusion
The Use of Dreams: rondine
What is the use of dreams devoid of action, that linger on as hopes before they die; and while they last, convince us if we try that in the end we will find satisfaction. Such wistful shadows taunt us to … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, action, dreams, effort, French verse forms, illusion, poetic forms, rondine, substance, success
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If Seeking: rionnard tri-nard
If you would seek wisdom, the walls of your prison must be made a prism. To purify vision, let light begin creeping like mice, softly sneaking, almost still half sleeping – if wisdom you’re seeking. 03 MAY 2017 Share This:
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, illusion, Irish verse forms, poetic forms, prison, rionnaird tri-nard, seeking, silence, wisdom
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What Good is That: rime royal
What is the Truth, that we spend all our days, from birth to death, imagining so fair that we invent, seek to avoid or praise some vain ideal constructed from thin air, that as illusion is beyond compare; it casts … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, decision, Geoffrey Chaucer, illusion, poetic verse forms, power, rime royal, truth
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Closing Time: rime couée
Down at the bar we sit and wait, as if our glory days, so great, still might return anon. We act younger throughout the night, so we forget, while we get tight, that halcyon is gone. And all the girls … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, age, drinking, French verse forms, glory days, illusion, poetic forms, rime couée
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The Critic: riddle
Who tears apart, but never builds; in summer, says he prefers chills; proclaims “I won’t” when others will; expects to never pay the bill? Who tends to “no”, withholding “yes”; predicts more failure than success; looks to curse rather than … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, criticism, critics, illusion, negativity, poetic forms, relationship, riddle, self-denial
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Idol
Don’t want to be an American idol, good for a season and then tossed away; held up like Jesus and the King James Bible, blamed for the country’s future going astray. Don’t want to be an American idol, hawking potato … Continue reading
Day Flight: rannaigheacht mhor
Each new day is so fleeting: like a busy bee flitting between its sweet hits, floating, never slowing nor quitting. Life’s made of days flying: sighed hellos and then goings. Through each room we go gliding: near colliding, then dying. … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
Tagged #BookofForms, brevity, illusion, Irish verse forms, life, poetic forms, rannaigheacht mhor, time
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