Tai
05/24/07, 05:23 PM
I've started referring to my poetry as Essa's (singular: Essa) for some strange reason. I like it, and I've gone so far as make it a temporary title for a few of them (Essa One, Essa Two, Etc).
So here they are, three Essa's:
“In the battered State
On my china plate
My philosophic meal
Emphasizing imagination
Disregarding the tassel
Which hangs from my brow
It seems education is second
to prestidigitation
(the speaker of the Estate, the man of Consequence, the Real Politico)
It seems all of this
Four walls, a breakfast nook
The private butler, the private cook
(myself)
must make do for now.”
“Outside of the University A Monster Waits"
I see. Some Color for you then.
One cold tear drop
Becomes the river ‘round my island
Running reckless, running free
Running back to
Blue eyes, filled with abandonment
Gazing at stone statues ruined in the plaza
Proclaiming kings frozen in motion
Father figures imprisoned in stone.
China white from China white
The men of unalterable law stride forth
Meeting the men of bruised hearts
Ebon and red, ebon and red
Crimson their banner, Jet their intent.
Their clash arouses the singers
Who proclaim ruination
as glorification.
"Essa Two"
The invention of men
Inheritors of the earth
Tan-Pink, China White, Blue Black, Yellow-Sand
Refracted peoples of the earth
Responding to the frequencies of light and sound
Fail to notice the following thing: “What goes up
Must needs come down.”
"Essa Three"
So here they are, three Essa's:
“In the battered State
On my china plate
My philosophic meal
Emphasizing imagination
Disregarding the tassel
Which hangs from my brow
It seems education is second
to prestidigitation
(the speaker of the Estate, the man of Consequence, the Real Politico)
It seems all of this
Four walls, a breakfast nook
The private butler, the private cook
(myself)
must make do for now.”
“Outside of the University A Monster Waits"
I see. Some Color for you then.
One cold tear drop
Becomes the river ‘round my island
Running reckless, running free
Running back to
Blue eyes, filled with abandonment
Gazing at stone statues ruined in the plaza
Proclaiming kings frozen in motion
Father figures imprisoned in stone.
China white from China white
The men of unalterable law stride forth
Meeting the men of bruised hearts
Ebon and red, ebon and red
Crimson their banner, Jet their intent.
Their clash arouses the singers
Who proclaim ruination
as glorification.
"Essa Two"
The invention of men
Inheritors of the earth
Tan-Pink, China White, Blue Black, Yellow-Sand
Refracted peoples of the earth
Responding to the frequencies of light and sound
Fail to notice the following thing: “What goes up
Must needs come down.”
"Essa Three"