Belay the Fiercest Star


The confines of this place
Proscribe my moral obligations.
Caution now, no time for celebrations.
Freely out its scabbard, lightening rise the fiercest star
And thus erupts its morning weapon’s inflicted scar.
Feely, then, and dare to ostracize: don’t rant.
But go within to seek a world extant.

“Come now drift up the dark.”

Proscribe my moral obligations?
Big-time boffins collude to use my life.
Vial of fear dust aren’t antidotes for strife.
Singing down with vanity of age, the body fails
All too soon, hail, single-up and hoist the sails.
Slick gadgetry revives, as well this poetry declines.
Belay you well that whine: as sanctity presides.

September 15, 2001