Tuesday, June 11, 2013

More poems

Soliloque

Now that where I am is far closer than from whence I came
Remind me, oh God of my father, with a good measure
To set my two eyes tightly upon the initial aim
And to shut them widely against all these temporal pleasure

For I'd left the warmth of our village for this city set on oil
I came only with the wise counsels of father
And the tearful prayers of mother
To learn the noble art and science of caring for the ill

So urge me even in this cold to embrace my books
And avoid the embrace of these sensuous hips
Wagging all around campus like fish in a pond
Looking for a fragile destiny like mine to impound

They are attractive, and they know it
They are well to do, but they wear tiny little clothes
Leaving a good chunk of their bodice to lead men astray
I've seen a handful of destinies burn in that ashtray

Hearken to me, oh God of my father
Let me not sacrifice the dream of my father
At the altar of three minutes of pretty little flesh
Remind me always of home where hopes rise in wait for me.

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