Philosophy

Daffodils

Daffodils
Two poems for Wild Daffodil

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Daffodils 1
(for my mother)

Light in dark
bright yellow stridence
shrill golden dog’s bark
to warn off death’s wolves
that freeze her blood

she dreaded night’s unease
the devil’s wintry anti-spring
life’s darkest sparks

 but loved the daffodils’
sunny March cadence
of brief piercing dance

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Daffodils 2

For ten long days the daffodils
endured, bringing to vase and breakfast-
table stored up sunshine and the silky
softness of their golden gift.

Their scent grew stronger as they
gathered strength from the sugar
we placed in their water, but now
they have withered and their day’s done.

Dry and shriveled they stand paper-
thin and brown, crisp to the touch.
They hang their heads:
oncoming death weighs them down.

 

Chance Encounter

Chance Encounter
(Overheard last night at the bar)

“Meeting her, unexpected,
with another man,
and me, with another woman,
all four of us looking
bemused by what the other
had chosen in each
others absence
— suspense —
and the halted, faltering
politeness of a nod,
a handshake, ships
passing in the night,
signals no longer recognized.”

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“You only find
what you leave behind.”

Earthing Earthling

Earthing Earthling
(for ProofofLife)

“Get out and about,” she told me.
Take off your socks and shoes.
Walk barefoot on the earth and grass:
twin pleasures, you can choose.”

I took two canes, one in each hand,
and left the house to walk the land.

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In the garden I took off my shoes
to walk barefoot on the lawn;
when grass sprang up between my toes
I was instantly reborn.

I stood in the shade of the crab apple tree
and let leaf and flower spill over me.

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Sunlight took away my frown
and freckled a smile on my face.
I was blessed again with hope and light;
earth and grass filled me with grace

When white blossoms filtered down
they gifted me a flowery crown.

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I stooped to reach my shoes
and carried them home in my hand,
maintaining as long as I could
my contact with this magic land.

 

 

The Unexamined Life 1

The Unexamined Life 1

“The unexamined life
is not worth living.”
Socrates.

A philosopher’s life’s based on thinking,
and drinking, and thinking, and drinking,
and thinking and drinking,
and thinking and drinking,
and thinking about thinking and drinking.

He gazes and gazes at his navel,
every day for as long as he is able,
and talks to his wife
about trouble and strife
and the problems they have to unravel

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But all is not doom and gloom
when a philosopher enters the room,
tho none can debunk
the size of the trunk
of the elephant stuck in the room.

As for me, I am caring and giving,
and although I work hard for my living,
I’d willingly share
with a friend in despair
half my cloak and a third of my living.

“Join the army,” the philosopher said.
“There’s no life like it,” he said.
“You get very few thanks
when you’re in the front ranks,
but it’s better than walking round dead.”

(To be continued … )

“The unlived life
is not worth examining.”
Pseudo-Socrates.