No hand has toiled
To lift a stone or till the soil,
Nor was timber cut and laid
To build a farm or carve a glade,
No one danced in jubilee,
Nor anyone assembled peaceably,
Neither government grasping power,
Nor men banding to build a tower,
But first IDEA has taken root
And pushes men into pursuit.
Author Archives: viewingcamelot
About viewingcamelot
As Locke Would Have It
My Inferno
I thought of you today,
The old times, the way
You steeped in frustration
At my many limitations.
If you cared, I wasn’t sure,
But I knew you’d need more
So bothered by my lack,
The unseemly attacks
You refused to see.
In some ways you punished me
For who I couldn’t be.
I’ve thought of you recently
Conducting yourself so decently
While I lived on the fringe.
I must have been unhinged
To fall in love with you.
A girl like me would never do,
Never blend into your world.
I wore my sins, my flag unfurled,
Against the backdrop of your pedigree.
I was your purgatory.
You were my paradise.
Running of Age
These ancient guttered streets,
Worn signs and pot holes,
Hard to follow with childish feet
Dangerous to patrol,
Spread out into the great unknown
A mission, a compulsion
Tangled with sticks and stones,
Each step its own propulsion.
Running once, and fleeing,
I’ve learned these roads now.
Enemies near and seething
Fall back silenced, disavowed.
Sometimes I still stumble
These roads have deep ruts,
But the nature of the humble
Admits falling, gets up,
Keeps walking.
Ebenezer
Time
Finger furled miser,
Stealing, drinking years
Leaving them no wiser.
Ruthless crime.
Time
You promised humanity
You would heal all wounds.
Instead you feed vanity
Then undermine.
Time
Ruler of ruins,
But you will end.
What will you do then,
Be reassigned?
Begin again
Open-handed.
Humanism
Open your eyes and gaze
The world is your ancestor.
You regain in essays
What you lost in vespers.
Open your throat and scream.
A hundred voices echo back.
Stand upon your reams,
Scream until it cracks.
Take this thought and live
Alone and wildly free.
Eat through your missives,
Become the escapee
You were born to be.
Shattered Fruit
All created as many parts in union.
God rested from the work, not works, He made.
Whole and complete, naked and unashamed,
Until creation was fractured by sin,
And subjected to futility and aberration.
After seeing the whole, naming the parts,
Man lost the view he gained at his start.
He splintered his perception.
He sees the pieces, not the whole.
Naming a rose is now by fragments;
A texture, a color, a scent.
Terms of his broken parole.
No union, but bits to conjoin.
Standing before The Maker,
Utterly and entirely naked,
But they only covered their loins.
Who Sits on the Right?
We neither deserved deliverance,
Nor strictly grace postulate.
Is this an irreconcilable difference,
Or are we just obstinate?
Authority issues on both sides,
Waiting for humility from each other,
We use what unites to divide.
We use our freedom to smother.
I know from personal history,
It’s better to humble yourself,
Than be humbled. The mystery
Pursues long term health.
Short term thoughts chew,
And I have had this meal before.
It doesn’t taste like truth.
We must be meant for more.
So the truth is we are brothers,
And even fighting, still we share
In something far beyond us,
And undeserved: co-heirs.
Migraines
Violent Migraine
Intrusive aggressor
Fever of brain,
Sadistic oppressor.
Home invader,
Layer of waste
Vision violator
Body debased.
Fragmenting brow-beater,
And stomach sourer
Voracious Life-eater
Today devourer.
Leave me tomorrow.
Brother’s Keepers
There’s no home for intimidation
Inside reconciliation,
And family must embrace
Deepest when facing
Deep differences.
Love shows no belligerence,
But patience and humility.
Love is what we are called to be,
Called and empowered,
For He has showered us
With grace upon grace.
Fragrance of Summer
My children smell of grass
And garden hoses-
All knees and elbows,
And sunburnt noses.
So eager for the comfort
Of shade and clean clothes,
They curl up in my arms,
My gift of repose.
And I can’t wash this off,
Not with years of soap.
My children smell of grass,
And laughter, and hope.
viewingcamelot 