[As “Chaucer” said in The Sandman, rhyming is such fun! Well, he said something to that effect, even if I don’t have the exact quote! —les]
Verses about Principles, Virtues, Death / and a Story
On HBO there is a show:
Animation—“Primal.”
A caveman and a dinosaur
Struggle for survival.
In their violent green world
The usual color’s red;
Violence is the modus
While Blood means you are dead!
Raw Strength resides with the Lion,
Legs like pillars of steel;
His Claws, like knives made of iron,
His prey have no appeal!
Patience, a Virtue much needed,
When Silence is a sin;
Withhold the cutting rejoinder,
Keep the Devil within!
Blake named the place of the Tiger:
The Forests of the Night;
It lives in our sleep untroubled
By dreams of fire and blight!
Desire regards all women fair,
All gold a worthy goal;
Desire is always on the move,
Restless as new born foal.
Sweet Prudence is a careful wench,
A careful wench is she;
She has a mirror and a snake—
Reflective, wise and free!
Despair inhabits ruined towns,
Where broken sidewalks end;
She has no way to stop her life—
No dagger, rope nor friend!
DEATH: THE STORY
[In 21 rhyming stanzas]
[8/6/8/6]
Death prowls the untoward City streets,
The rat-infested slums;
Death stalks the drug-infected self,
Death even steals his crumbs!
Now Death sits on a chain link fence,
Whistling an eerie tune;
Beyond the fence a graveyard grim,
With stones grey like the moon.
A boy and girl meet at the gate,
Ignoring all the clues;
They enter through the wrought iron gate,
Their small dog enters too.
Death watches from his chain link perch—
One moment is enough—
To snatch a life from this dark place:
Extinguish! blow out! snuff!
The boy and girl are holding hands,
Pretending to be brave;
They whisper and tiptoe the path,
They find an open grave!
Little dog sees the darksome pit,
Smells the presence of Death;
He tucks his tail between his legs
Barks till he’s out of breath!
A graveyard is a loathsome place,
In the shadowy night;
The boy and girl turn from the grave,
Follow their dog in fright.
Death watches as they turn and flee,
Back to the wrought iron gate;
He grins a gleeful grin at them
And thinks, “It’s not your Fate!”
The boy and girl are safe beyond
The grave of Samuel Lee
Who died a dreadful Texas death,
Eighteen Seventy Three.
His Ghost still haunts this lonely place,
Intangible his touch;
He’s nothing but a chilly breeze—
At best that’s nothing much!
Yet boy and girl and little dog
Sense in the ruined air
That something lurks that is not right
Something beyond repair.
Never again in deep dark night
Will they their homes forsake
To tiptoe in a graveyard grim
Ruled by Death, Ghost and Fate.
No one knows the little dog’s thoughts,
No one knows what he dreams,
As he snuffs and puffs and whimpers
Pursuing doggy themes.
Now Death forsakes that chain link fence,
Leaves those graves to wander
Under bleak, dim City streetlights,
His own life to ponder.
“What could I be if not be me?”
Death whispers to the grass;
“I’d like to be a man for once,
To woo a lovely lass.
“But God made me to be this thing
That terrifies the dark,
That sits on fences whistling tunes,
And haunts each City park.
“Seeing it’s late I better go,
Mass shooting on the green;
Another idiot with a gun,
Another bloody scene.
“No human values Life as I,
No human understands
That Death is not the end of things,
But Life for Goodness planned!
“It’s been a pleasant graveyard shift,
With boy and dog and girl;
I envy them their one brief hour—
Time is a precious Pearl.
“Let now the final curtain fall
Signaling the ending;
No pious props are needed here—
That machine is pending.
“Well, Mortals, you have heard my voice—
Deus ex—I think not!
Though always* hidden in the wings,
He’s still One of our lot!”
*Okay! Almost always. Of course you see the problem! —les
Death Roams the Graveyard - Midjourney
