Observations of a Warrior Poet. T. John Mattson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ matter what the shape,

      It leers back through us,

      With no place to escape.

      Yet the reality it returns is flawed.

      Some may even say cursed,

      Since the images come back to us,

      Backward or inversed.

      Well, experts might use physics to explain

      This dance of materials and light,

      While the metaphysical soul might compare

      And ask, which one is more right?

      Such as, is the real beauty shown,

      Or just wasted vanity?

      Or might this illusion hide the sane,

      As well as insanity?

      Time

      How, may we define

      This concept, so surreal?

      Yet it exists, we are sure,

      Through change and age we all feel.

      Many phrases are common,

      That seek to clarify.

      Such as, “make it,” “have it,” or

      “When having fun, it can fly.”

      Even Einstein’s equations,

      Adding those dimensions of space,

      Carefully crafted, complex,

      Not easy for the commonplace.

      But the one thing for sure

      Is that it definitely marches on,

      From the moment of our birth

      Through our life, and well after we are gone.

      The Fallen

      Many times they’re our heroes,

      Our champions, the strong

      With whom time becomes their foe,

      As do many things going along.

      Commands to their bodies

      No longer obeyed.

      Doubt created for the newly unsure,

      A new fear now displayed.

      Confidence and esteem

      Often erode in the past,

      With a quiet humility,

      Previously unknown, coming fast.

      Can anything be done

      To lessen this great fall?

      Maybe respecting prior glories,

      So they may always stand tall.

      Harmony

      A great hunger exists

      In this land of ours,

      Where equality is still sought,

      With no walls, with no bars.

      This balance, this harmony,

      Has been an elusive tune,

      In that many minorities of color and creed

      Have suffered greatly to their ruin.

      Parity, respect—

      Are these values so remote?

      Can differences be overcome,

      With no one stranded or left afloat?

      It’s true that no two share

      The same mind, the same face,

      Yet to always remember this truth…

      We’re all residents of the human race.

      The Law

      The rule of law,

      It is often said,

      Is the backbone of our system,

      Universal to all, our leaders and the led.

      However, one symbol shows both

      Its strength and its needs.

      The lady, a statue and blindfolded,

      Perhaps not seeing all deeds.

      This blindness,

      Manifested through money and power,

      Has shown to many, great injustice,

      Certainly not our finest hour.

      As one hopes to see change

      Through the ridicule and derision,

      Maybe only then can this system

      Restore some lost vision.

      Word

      The spoken word has immense power

      As it conveys.

      Its message may be infinitely broad,

      Though often, it changes ways.

      With its inherent freedoms,

      There is also a great cost,

      Since some will find direction,

      Others will be lost.

      Here it seems especially important

      That one possesses a discerning ear,

      Since some talk…

      Not always thoughtful or measured—

      Approaches with some fear.

      Times like this, when one ignores,

      Those words’ power lose their weight.

      Now empty and without inertia,

      Deaf СКАЧАТЬ