Monday, November 12, 2018

Miscellaneous Rubaiyat

[On reading alternately The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam and The Bhagavad Gita.]

Each day begins the same as those before:
With meditation, sometimes less or more.
But ere the Dawn has opened up the sky,
I’ve always knocked against the inner Door.

What seems to be the truth turns out to be
The outermost of bodies—one, two, three!—
That in the earthly, astral, causal planes
But veil and hide the Truth—and That is me!

No matter what is given me to do,
My ego tries to grasp and bend and skew
It to itself as though my very Pow’r
To do at all did not descend from You.

How can I find You in the Summer’s heat?
In Winter’s cold? In dust beneath my feet?
How can these pains exist when in Thy Grace,
All worries, pains and fears taste only sweet?

Friday, May 11, 2018

The Dragons in My Hair

The dragons in my hair provide
so provident a flame,
that burnishes the sky around
and grants a blazing mane.

The dragons that I keep with me
char all to flaky black,
til close about my head there sits
a dusky midnight, packed.

These dragons light the fires inside,
when passion’s ember wakes,
blistering and crackling with
desires, loves, and hates.

And when the dragons turn their breath
upon what lies around,
I step out coolly from the ashes,
they do not weigh me down.

My dragons, my companions, my
pyrologists sublime,
may bind me or may free me,
but I know that they are mine.

Monday, April 30, 2018


The moon is full tonight, having swallowed all of April.
Swollen with the rays of the sun, it shines in our darkness.
Taking in the light of our eyes, it gives us back our poetry.

Sunday, April 29, 2018

Lessons from Cyrano

That honor, beauty, truth are kept inside,
    food for the spirit, when mere food is scarce.
That love and joy can grant the strength to fight
    the battles of the sword or of the heart.
That courage is no less if there be none
    to witness it—and may be all the greater.
To speak the truth with your own voice—even
    if you must use another’s mouth to speak.
That there are many ways a man may ascend
    to Heaven on the wings of his invention.
That the only villains worthy of the fight
    are Falsehood, Compromise, and Cowardice.
To take what comes—the wit, the looks, the pride,
    the good and bad of fortune, the hardest tests
    of friendship and of love, accepting all
    unflinchingly—as duty and as freedom.
And if God sees fit to grant you a large nose,
    to wear it proudly, for you know He knows.

Saturday, April 28, 2018

Double Dactyls from the Potterverse

Doot-dee-doo, doot-dee-doo,
    Harry J. Potter to
    strangely arrived:
faced with Avada Ke-
    davra, he magically,
    somehow survived.

My-oh-me, my-oh-me,
    Granger, Hermione
    (“Hogwarts: a History—
    read it!” she’ll say)
always relied upon
    saving the day.

Wheezy-lad, wheezy-lad,
    Ronald B. Weasley had
    hair the most shockingly
    red ever seen.
Brave for the most part, yet
    spiders reduced him to
    turning him green.

Scuzz-a-da, scuzz-a-da,
    Severus Snape was a
    nobody’s friend.
But then in spite of this
    attitude he was re-
    deemed in the end.

Headmaster A. P. B.
    W. Dumbledore,
    (back for a cameo,
    though he was dead)
gave inconclusively
    counsel to Harry in-
    side of his head.

Moldy-wart, moldy-wart,
    Tom Riddle (Voldemort)’s
    drove him to sin.
Sadly, his spell over-
    looked a key factor of
    Harry will win.

Friday, April 27, 2018

Shakespearean Double Dactyls

What-a-trick, what-a-trick,
    Beatrice and Benedick,
    swore not to marry be-
    fore they were dead.
Almost inevitably,
    gave way to trickery...
    then they were wed.

Try-to-find, try-to-find,
    ’Lando and Rosalind,
    both of them banished and
    lost in the woods,
but as she’s two levels
    deep in cross-dressing, she’s
    hidden the goods.

Three foolish lords and King
    Ferdinand, Ferdinand,
    thought they could study with-
    out any girls,
then shifted drastically,
    soon as they saw all those
    lovely French curls.

Fly-awa’, fly-awa’,
    Lucky for Viola
    (loved by the Duchess while
    dressed as a man)
brother Sebastian is
    willing to fill in the
    best that he can.

Thursday, April 26, 2018


after Emily Dickinson

My life sounds as a Melody,
though often poorly played —
Untuned it seems, and fickle —
Now jocular — now sad

But then a Higher octave comes,
Where sings a sweeter Note,
If I could only listen — close —
More delicate than thought —

This harmony — Exquisite —
Recalls my soul — to be
No mortal dragging on the earth
But singing — in the Sky