Drone Medley
My country tis of loans,
land of a million drones,
of thee I sting.
Droning and droning
In the widening gyre---
The best lack all conviction
while the worst
are full of passionate intensity!
Mine eyes have seen the glory
of the droning of the Lord!
Help, help, the sky is falling!
Not I! said the pig, the cow, the chicken.
There is nothing like a drone,
nothing we can own.
There is nothing ever known
that is anything like a drone.
I opened the door, saw
Mama Drone, Pappa Drone, Baby Drone
(isn’t she cute, with hellfire no less!)
By the hair on our drony, drone, drones,
we’ll huff and we’ll puff
and we’ll blow your house down!
So sorry we can’t meet you
Anonymous Hieronymus;
there’s nobody here but us drones!
Epiphany at Seacliff Beach
"where ignorant armies clash by night”
—Matthew Arnold--
It's sunset and high clouds
are puffs of pink against light blue
while waves wash in and gently
break upon the shores of Monterey Bay.
It's a world of limitless potential,
an infinity of vistas
as the sun sinks into the crease
where pastel sky meets water.
Now as the whoosh of surf resounds
far lights begin to shine around the bay,
each a twinkling star-like point
against the land's squat darkness.
The spectacle's enough to comfort me,
to make me momentarily forget
the blinding bursts of bombs,
the white-hot glaring fires of wars.
All around this ample world,
each individual with his/her tiny lights
and his/her total of awakenings,
some happening just now
as separate globes go bright.
It's enough to cause me to have faith,
to make me cry out loudly,
LOVE THY NEIGHBOR
trusting that we'll win
the crucial race to consciousness,
the race against ourselves,
the crazy, painful, brutal, tender,
half-illumined human race--
My country tis of loans,
land of a million drones,
of thee I sting.
Droning and droning
In the widening gyre---
The best lack all conviction
while the worst
are full of passionate intensity!
Mine eyes have seen the glory
of the droning of the Lord!
Help, help, the sky is falling!
Not I! said the pig, the cow, the chicken.
There is nothing like a drone,
nothing we can own.
There is nothing ever known
that is anything like a drone.
I opened the door, saw
Mama Drone, Pappa Drone, Baby Drone
(isn’t she cute, with hellfire no less!)
By the hair on our drony, drone, drones,
we’ll huff and we’ll puff
and we’ll blow your house down!
So sorry we can’t meet you
Anonymous Hieronymus;
there’s nobody here but us drones!
Epiphany at Seacliff Beach
"where ignorant armies clash by night”
—Matthew Arnold--
It's sunset and high clouds
are puffs of pink against light blue
while waves wash in and gently
break upon the shores of Monterey Bay.
It's a world of limitless potential,
an infinity of vistas
as the sun sinks into the crease
where pastel sky meets water.
Now as the whoosh of surf resounds
far lights begin to shine around the bay,
each a twinkling star-like point
against the land's squat darkness.
The spectacle's enough to comfort me,
to make me momentarily forget
the blinding bursts of bombs,
the white-hot glaring fires of wars.
All around this ample world,
each individual with his/her tiny lights
and his/her total of awakenings,
some happening just now
as separate globes go bright.
It's enough to cause me to have faith,
to make me cry out loudly,
LOVE THY NEIGHBOR
trusting that we'll win
the crucial race to consciousness,
the race against ourselves,
the crazy, painful, brutal, tender,
half-illumined human race--