ON NOT WRITING FICTION
I’ll write a poem, yes, but not a story.
I’d rather think of rhymes that fit—like gory, glory;
But making plots and themes and characters,
Imagining that this or that occurs,
Seems counter to the way my mind is made;
Yet tight parameters of verse obeyed,
A shapely sonnet neatly turned and tuned
Is what I do. My tale would be lampooned.
*
THE DRAGON’S LAIR
(in the mode of Beowulf)
In the days of the Dragon’s reign
nothing but danger
awaited those unwary ones
who wandered to its lair
and spying its treasure hord
sparkling with gems and gold
lusted for luxury,
longed to possess
what men and not monsters
should admire and maintain.
Yet none proved so stealthy
that he might deceive
the vigilant fang-fighter
furious to ward
what once he had garnered
from the mead halls of Geats.
Death and dismemberment
swiftly descended
on reckless mauraders
who ransacked his cave:
Woe to the wayward,
waylaid by luxury
since the consequence of coveting
is of no small account.
*
DO TELL
Tell me the story of that incident,
The day the baby squirrels fell from the tree,
Or tell me of some other sad event
That turned around and ended happily.
Or, if you must, recount or just make up
Some tragic accident or episode
As when two lovers quarrel and break up,
Or tell a tale in any other mode—
But tell, narrate, or spin a cunning yarn
That puts me in a spell entranced by words:
Take me to some mysterious mountain tarn
And make me see and hear exotic birds,
But make it so—beginning, middle, end—
That I’ll believe it, though it’s just pretend.
*
HOMO SAPIENT
What could be harder than to get one’s mind
Around the global problems that our race
Has wrought by being selfishly inclined—
Reckless, arrogant, devoid of grace?
For all the urgings of philosophy
And exhortations by the pulpiteers,
We clearly generate more misery
Inciting now Apocalyptic fears—
But also the reverse: a noble dream:
A Global Wisdom Culture we create
By changing hearts and minds that then redeem
Us from our lunacy and change our fate.
That culture can be consciously designed
We must believe—by sapience refined.
*
THE QUESTION
“How Wise is that?”—the question to be asked
Of all of our decisions, great and small,
For Providence and prudence both have tasked
Us to respect the benefit of all.
“How wise is that? What value does it serve
That we should rightly aim to realize?
Does it bring vigor, valor, vim or verve
To life—some indicators of what’s wise?”
But is there then no place for trivial
Activities, for heedless, thoughtless fun?
Is dour the way and not convivial?
How is the race our race is running won?
Of all wise values, there is none above
The greatest to pursue—and that is love.
*
