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The Secrets of the World are Wrapped in Silence (#4-Poetry)

I seek to exhume the words sacrificed by the poet,
Reconstruct images she carved away
When extracting the bloodied poem from the birth canal
A thousand, thousand breaths ago
A leper crumbling under the ravages of time
Even poetry can lose its luster when
Shoved from the quiet windows of the heart
Into dissonant classrooms
Seeking ‘correct’ interpretation
Common understanding of a love story
Encrypted in lovers cipher
Silence wrapped in kisses
Intelligible only by the heart of the One
Holding the master key of
Silent devotion.

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The Secrets of the World are Wrapped in Silence (#3-Red Whispers)

I want to understand why the color red
Whispers tales of love unrequited
Into the ears of orange,
Tales of adventure lived
When green recedes from maple leaves
During the dwindling days of Autumn,
Exposing yellow, orange, brown blanketing Earth, yet
Hides her face
Shy maiden peeking through a silken veil
Taught beneath panting breaths
Declines to utter a syllable to blue,
Refuses to exhale in the neighborhood of black,
Buries her radiance wherever
White sleeps.

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The Secrets of the World are Wrapped in Silence (#2-Unwritten Words)

I am fascinated by the white space separating written words,
Puddles swarming with thought larvae,
Below the mirrored surface
Meaning defined by absence
In the poem resting quietly
Silently
Clinging to the bottom of rocks
At the bed of the surging rivers
Flowing in the lines between sentences,
Parables and fables and myths
Embraced by those dwelling in silence
Who find sustenance in solitude

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The Secrets of the World are Wrapped in Silence (#1-Cravings)

I am drawn to silences
The way lizard blood craves the restorative heat of the morning sun
Following a cool night hunting in the blue shadows of a full moon
Spitting out sticky tongue toward flying songs
The dance of wings slicing coal-black air
Caressing winged insect
Greedily crunching moth in spike tooth jaws
Silencing it’s screaming
Forever

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An Unscripted Education (Inspired by Lyrics #12)

When I think back
On all the crap I learned in high school
It’s a wonder
I can think at all

~Paul Simon, Kodachrome

By an accident of birth depositing me in middle class America, I am blessed with a high quality education, a blessing not available to many in my country. I am the beneficiary of parents that valued children as individuals, valued education, and were willing to sacrifice to make quality schooling possible. They gave me the gift of private elementary and high schools placing a strong emphasis on the three Rs (reading, writing, ‘rithmetic) preparing me for eventual success in Engineering School.

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The Dead Poet’s Society, a Study in Leadership Development

Source: The Dead Poet’s Society, a Study in Leadership Development

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Angst

Life! What a cruel bastard ye can be! Bitch! Did ye conspire with the fates to take my old friend? Or with the devil to plant seeds of destruction in his suffering soul?

Questions that can be answered neither by Scientists nor Philosophers. Neither by clergy nor the layman. For none can see into another’s soul to feel their anguish, to understand their purgatory, to experience their personal hell.

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