Useful Things ~ Dipping my Pen into my Stream of Thought

Mirror Darkly

Mirror Darkly

Useful Things

Dipping My Pen into my Stream of Thought

Originally written as a continuous piece, broken up to aid readability

Looking at a wooden coffee stirrer
At a free seasonal holiday concert
In a public library with paper cups
Coffee, brownies, cider and cookies
My how times they have changed
Since I was born, it seems so long

Autoharps, a guitar and benches
Shelves full of books and still, so far
Magazines, newspapers, gone soon
Digital photos taken with a flash
Antique tech when we are but ash

Pictures, people, plants disappearing
Landscapes, portraits and still lifes
Still life with metal, wood and string
Fire in a stone fireplace in a library
Computers sit elsewhere, humming
Students, smartphones and earbuds

Dystopian stories composed, ink on
Paper, decomposed into other stories
Midst call and response, oral tradition
For peace on Earth and good will to all
How we dream hope though never act
This fleeting world breaks my heart

Mithras first reborn on the solstice
Will we create the birth of a new sun
In our living rooms and our libraries
Truly sacred places, though no more
Our last day, the last hour of our years
Will we be consumed by our worst fears

Will we then understand what’s useful
News, stories, wood, stone, all history
Ink, paper, recollections, records, time
Interpretations electronic, traditional
Life on life, story builds us, makes us
Shelters us, feeds us, keeps us warm

Though useful all, still not enough alone
Where then our love and understanding
Smiles and laughter, sorrow and tears
Unspoken language we all comprehend
Hugs, healing, caring, hunger satisfied all
Sing and clap, beat drums, make rhythms

Mirror the beating of our hearts, seeking
Understanding, this world, our universe
Never knowing how we fail to listen to
Remember no more that we are as much
Our world, full as much as our world is us
Believing everything ours, belonging to us

This targeted, sheltered no man’s land we
Wander, entrenched within our ignorance
Which we defend as knowledge, wisdom
Please unblock our closed, clotted ears
Unlock our obtuse minds, unused hearts
So we may bravely stride alone together

Unarmed and open into our dark night
Standing arm in arm with radiant smiles
Sing up the new-risen sun, a hopeful day
Remembering our first time, our family
Our people, tribes, nations all one family
Ours to embrace in love and compassion

All those who preach only greed, hatred
Who profit from death to climb corpses
Of conscientious combatants and those
Who are not, cannot wantonly kill or die
To dress mansions, people in filthy lucre
Which can be never eaten or worn alone
Perhaps, but not warm, cool or nourishing
Fouled with smoldering, poisonous residue

New prophets come forth to answer need
Observe, reflect reality, the core of being
Which is the center of the universes, all
Existing everywhere simultaneously, equal
We, our own prophets, must peer within
Find there our being, beings crystal clear
Indistinguishable from our inspiration, life

Please click on the links below to find my art, prints, greeting cards and gift items.

Philip Brent Digital Art and Photography
Philip Brent on Fine Art America
Brent Harris Fine Art
Brent Harris on Fine Art America
The Pen’s Might
The Extra Mile

Commissions Strongly Encouraged

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: