Saturday, July 25, 2015

To hear the sounds

Songs lack for music when unsung,
Bells never toll when they're unrung;
Poems have a voice, and must be heard;
Say them aloud, but sing the words.

Friday, July 24, 2015

The politician

Every slippery politician
Holds a partisan position,
But he'll soften it with euphemism
To hide his blatant party-ism.

He'll sweet-talk voters very well
To sell stuff that he's told to sell,
And he'll strive to gain affection,
Always seeking re-election.

His wealthy owners let him know
Without their cash, he'd have to go,
So he parrots lines they taught him
And talks fast; that's why they bought him.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

On the Pluto mission's success

At last! We know how Pluto looks,
An item for the history books;
The New Horizons, NASA's probe,
Has sent photos of the tiny globe.

It lies four billion miles from earth,
And what we learn will prove of worth;
The voyage took nearly ten years,
But now, its great success is clear.

But, where are our priorities?
What matters most? To you, to me?
It looks like war will still endure,
And, as for cancer? Still no cure.

And, will we ever find relief
From poverty, and hunger's grief?
Although we've had a huge success,
We've ancient problems to address.

Monday, July 20, 2015

To own the sky

Skilled Daedalus built feathered wings,
And asked his son to test the things.
He made the wings with wax for glue,
And thought the sticky wax should do.

He warned his son the wax could melt,
But Icarus, foolhardy, felt
He was impervious to harm;
The warning caused him no alarm.

The feckless boy, immune to care,
Soon launched himself into the air,
But flew too near the burning sun;
Both wings fell off, and he was done.

The dream of flight, and own the sky,
Is brave, and noble, worth the try.
That time, it came to no avail,
And so, we end this sorry tale.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

What I believe

If people ask what I believe,
I tell them, I believe in change
In everything that I perceive
Across the breadth of nature's range:

The soft rain falling down on me,
The lightning flashing in the sky,
The thunder crashing fearsomely,
And sun returning by-and-by;

The summer buzz of bumblebees,
The calmness of a clear fall night,
The crispness of a winter freeze,
All change; as sure as day to night.

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Portrait of a girl from Pompeii

The girl is powdering her nose,
A brush and mirror in her hands;
The artist caught her mundane pose,
Familiar still, to any man.

What notions fill that pretty head?
We'll never know, they're lost to time;
Pompeii and she are long-since dead,
But here we see her in her prime.

Two thousand years have passed, and yet,
The mural of the girl still gives
A hint of her brief pirouette
Through life, and love, as though she lives.

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Intelligent design? Or not?

Some call Intelligent Design
God's plan for life, and his outline;
But doubters say life's profusion
Has its source in evolution.

Believers claim the plan's God's law,
And science lacks sufficient awe;
The battle lines are sharp, and strong;
Each side insists the other's wrong.

Religion swears God's plan is key,
And science has to bend the knee.
Who's right? Who's wrong? Both sides seem sure;
With luck, the cosmos will endure.