Crag the Crow

For ten years the patient muddled through And for eight more he managed the neglect and decline. The festering sepsis soaked limb and liver. Liberty Morris was broken and breaking. Passively and actively The insidious infections in his soul Coupled with the toxins he ingested.   And the nurse arrived on a partly cloudy day, Loaded the crab-walking fool into a Chevy Nova For the rented pilgrimage to the clinic. The pathetic wasting hirsute beast Was loved and fretted over by the Philosopher Queen. She had healing in her heart, Courage in her spirit to spare.   Slightly old doctor Goidel Glas, examined patients near an olive tree. Liberty stumbled, sprawled on the earthen clay, regarding the healer.   Mountebank, I have been ill for half my life, it suits me well; My illness is now mine own self. Conceal your cathartic contraptions and catholicons, Restrain your pretended ancient knowledge My condition precedes, exceeds, destroys a breathless cosmos.   No...

When I stand beside the Ocean - Perhaps a mate by my side - I am humbled by the vast wide open, Naked, collapsing, with nowhere to hide. And the expanse arrayed before me Formless and flat and wide, Is the great earth's analogy, For how a man is called to abide. The opposite side is too distant For a child to imagine its shore. A father must in this life be regnant; One for the child to adore. A man begets his loved children, And learns that he must rise in his soul To form the clay into strong men And satisfy the God-given role. A one of the same was there at my side The moment I birthed on the scene. Would he had thrown his arms so wide - A bosom like Abraham's for me to lean. His life would not be measured by success, Rather on the manliness he taught. Worldly trophies not to be his dress, But the struggles that he sore fought. Rising from rest to find rest in spirit, Wending his way to the daily hunt. His ret...