Saturday, September 13, 2014



We near the precipice and hear its roar,
And yet, the madness of the rush proceeds.
And even though one says, “Is that a scream?”
The others shout, “Go on. It’s just a dream!”

So lemmings, we’ve been told, may die in fjords,
And humans perish, as we’ve seen, in wars.
The ones of narrow vision rule our herd
And goad us on, upon this whirling earth.

In truth and kindness, though the saints believe,
This world is ruled by cruelty and lies.
In most religions, peace is valued most,
And yet, it’s war of which the nations boast.

So those who follow conscience now are doomed,
As they are punished and their ventures fail.
For virtue now is only seen as vice,
And he or she succeeds, who isn’t nice.

If I believed in God and Satan, then
I’d see a world that’s headed straight for hell.
And though I’ve tried to steer to what is right,
The fiery portals are what loom in sight.

Salaam, shalom, and shaanti, peace…
So men beseech the spirit, everyday.
And yet, the demons, that infest the mind,
Their newest means of endless torture find.
How many are the traps and vortices –
The snares and whirlpools that devour our souls...
And all around us, swirls the great cyclone,
Yet in its eye, we sit – and psalms intone.

How many are the myths by which we're led...
How many are the prisons built by men...
From deep within, the captives call, in pain.
But few can hear them, as they call in vain.

There was a time when I could view the world
And all its madness with a tranquil eye –
Observe its wonders and its horrors and
Attempt, with mind and heart, to understand.
But having fallen in the vortex, I
Have lost, alas, that clear, untroubled sight –
For all the conflicts of the world are fought
Within ourselves – where sanity is not.

And yet, in night's despair, the hope persists
That there's a day that will, with time, have dawn –
That deep below the shallow storms of self,
There's still that calm, to which we turn for help.
2014 September 13th, Sat.
Brooklyn, New York

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