a poem is a sermon
The blood that courses through my veins has been diluted. I can sense its former potency at times: remembering my father’s strength, my great-grand sire’s blind wandering (which was itself a pale claret compared to further back in time when his ancestors sought freedom in the New World, alone and broke), the continents and oceans […]
I chose to walk a path of wildness; though these modern city streets are paved and seem to revel in a blindness that believes the urban sprawl has saved us from what nature could remind us: somewhere beneath all this black and gray, behind the masks that progress may wear as it fumbles through lines […]
Sleep on, new world — your time is yet to come; and in that pall of death, forget what was, what is, or merely seems, and build the future from your dreams. Sleep on, mankind, rebuild your strength; prostrate, laid on your bed full length, dream of new heroes still unborn in slumber’s womb yet […]