You Have Dug Me Out, a Poem
You Have Dug Me Out
I am no fire,
but honest earth,
yet you have dug me out,
I am a mole, blinking in the sun.
My only treasure are friends
who, wittingly take up the word,
and uncover gleaming treasure-
and my compensation in
such stark tale telling is
that it's truthful, and more truthful
than any elgies that might come my way.
What an old Moon has struck upon
may not be my surface at all,
but (for all egocentrics out there)
I'll claim it.
The fire (palos) (a fire, or event of something burning)
(which I had to look up, but did...)
is our passion, which nothing can
stand before, without being altered,
like love, it changes, a little bit,
the souls it touches, an ocean of
heavy treasure, lyrical words,
are the pith-gold of the soul and
isn't weighed by earth device.
How beautiful you are, riding prismatic waves
that only a Picasso could render,
While I, I the earthbound Mortal,
paint fields like Van Gogh, violent
heavy, clouds of blue-grey,
Yet. When I'm gifted with your
I'm struck, clean thru, the arrow
barbed and dangerous, lodges
in my Soul.
Now, Is it my Turn?
Probably not... but I will claim it.
Latin is a glorious language,
and, with a little work,
we might explain why Euclides
was able to chart the stars,
and we may be able to renew
that thirst for knowledge,
simply by doing it ourselves...
I have one shoe on.
My friend has caught me
and I could not reach beyond it
You deserve a walk (my dog"s name is, Athena)
Fulgeo, gaudio gestus.