If the words we choose are merely tools
that separate the wise men from the fools,
what sort of workshop is the kind of school
where any passion in our hearts is cooled
and what we learn is just a set of rules
and reasons why our lives are base and cruel,
an endless search to find some precious jewel
that uses our own hearts and minds for fuel?
18 Jun 2025
ebullient exuberant, bubbling over with high spirits
Beware the fool, whose loud ebullient laugh
jumps back and forth, like a cracked phonograph.
It’s not a truly happy sign at all;
more like the echo of a cattle call.
éclat conspicuous success, general applause or acclaim, elaborate display
Most public piety, with grand éclat,
convinces fools, while real saints turn away.
ectoplasm a substance supposed to be exuded from a spiritual medium during a trance
we paid our fifty dollars for a reading,
but got no ectoplasm, despite pleading.
emolument a fee received, a salary
What great emolument my service earned
in living costs and taxes was soon burned.
encomium high praise given in speech or writing
Leave off encomium, my cheering thralls;
hard cash seems much more useful, after all.
endogenous growing or originating from within
true moral strength, they say,
must be endogenous;
receiving it through discipline,
it dodges us.
ennui boredom
If you would fight ennui, don’t overtire,
else you just bore yourself ’til you expire.
equivocal able to be interpreted in two ways, ambiguous
Yes, truth and guilt can often seem
equivocal – part fact, part scheme –
designed to trick us from both sides
and leave chaos where they collide.
ersatz serving as a substitute, especially of an inferior kind
Wise men and fools alike believe
themselves led by the truth in things.
One sees a world that cannot be,
while one accepts an ersatz king.
euphemism a mild or roundabout expression substituted for one considered improper or too harsh or blunt
Don’t shuffle on or pass away,
give up the ghost or fade to gray.
Let euphemisms such as these
just die, expire and soon decease.
declivity a downward slope
And so it seems, with very little fuss,
the future’s come: declivity and rust.
defalcation misappropriation of funds, a breach of trust concerning money
If you would find the truth in situations,
follow the money: seek for defalcation.
deleterious harmful to mind or body
His politics weren’t radical or serious,
but how he wielded them was deleterious.
demimonde the world of women of doubtful reputation and social standing
Where are these righteous men in secret found?
Out sneaking to some maligned demimonde.
demotic of ordinary people
It’s more difficult to be despotic
when your clay’s matériel demotic.
digress to depart from the main subject temporarily in speaking or writing
If you would pontificate progress,
stay on point; you’ll lose them with digress.
dissociate to separate in one’s thoughts
It is an easy thing to find support
among the throng who live for hunt as sport:
they disassociate themselves from what they seek,
imagining themselves the strong, not weak.
doctrinaire applying theories or principles without regard for practical considerations
So many think themselves bold doctrinaires,
defending with their dying breath ideals
whose goals are some great future bright and fair,
but need a path wrought out of blood and steel.
donnybrook a wild fight, a free for all
A duck, then a dodge, then a mighty left hook!
Broken chair, busted lip, a damn fine donnybrook.
dybbuk the evil spirit of a dead person that enters and controls a live person’s body
What darkness has the dybbuk found here seen
that fouls with discontent and hate the mind,
and would destroy that good the world has been
in some revenge for what it left behind?
10 FEB 2017
Leave a CommentAre they still weapons, these mere words
we use to crystallize what thoughts
may form at random in our heads
or like to squeeze out for some end,
a worthy cause we would advance,
a blessing, curse or snare of love,
some cleverness sure to impress
or at least baffle for a time?
How everyone is armed these days!
It takes so little effort now
to build an arsenal behind
a screen of anonymity.
There are more poets, it would seem,
than there are fishes in the sea,
more than the stars out there in space,
more now than ever were before,
and each would wield a sacred sword
to cut away the rotted flesh
and free the suffocating soul
so it may somehow serve the world;
and everyone assumes their blade
will make the most important cut,
remove the cancer, scour the wound
and make the body pure again.
There is no end to such deceit:
that words alone can change the world,
that careless phrases in the void
transform some evil into good
by virtue of their worth alone,
or by some miracle subdue
the brute force that enslaves the world
and makes it blind and deaf;
while everyone pretends they hear,
that they are the sole conduit
by which the universe declares
itself, and by that act, survives.
They may be weapons, but what use
are words in such unthinking hands
that would destroy to somehow build
a world that values their intent.
Just how will some mere phrases turn
the tide of angry sentiment
that grows against the use of thought
and would devour diversity,
while everyone, in pantomime,
acts out some peaceful, loving role
without believing it themselves?
What good can such words do?
30 APR 2013
Leave a CommentSad, the speech he could have given
for men dead and those living
might have meant more, if believing
destiny were a haven.
In the cadence of his speaking,
you could feel his heart breaking;
and his way seemed to be shaken
by the weight of great mistakes.
As he spoke his wisdom wandered
through one door, out the other,
sound and silence mixed together
in true and even measure.
What more words would you have spoken?
As lies go, the ones chosen
said those things they could, then closing,
flowed away free, unbroken.
12 DEC 2012
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