The Truth Is and 4 Other Poems

The Bar

 The sky had deepened imperceptibly
 And three stars quietly announced
 The passage into evening.
  
 The bar opened its shutters and doors.
  
 Truth, Beauty, Love, Morals, and Faith
 Ambled in, adjusting their eyes
 To the dim lights inside the bar,
 And sat down at the first booth
 They encountered. A man behind the bar
 Dried glasses, oblivious to the guests.
  
 Truth was the first to speak. He said,
 “I have an idea for a game.”
 The rest looked up at him, vaguely piqued.
 “The one with the shortest lifespan
 Buys drinks for everyone,” he continued.
  
 Not to be outdone at the outset,
 Love agreed in principle but countered,
 “Rather than the shortest lifespan,
 I suggest the one whom everyone
 Can do without buys drinks for all.”
  
 Faith tapped his water glass and said,
 “How about the one whose assertions
 Need the most proofs to be believed
 Should buy a round for one and all?”
  
 Morals cleared his throat and bellowed,
 “How about the one who needs the most
 Axioms to forestall the need to prove
 Should pay comradery’s price?”
  
 Finally, Beauty opened a compact mirror,
 Powdered an exquisite nose, arranged
 A pretty eyelash, and said to no one
 In particular, “If someone doesn’t order
 Drinks instead of all this tiresome gabbing,
 I shall leave you all to your sordid games.”
  
  
 Courage, who had been sitting at the bar,
 Ordered two drinks from the barman
 And soon was joined by Beauty.
  
                                                                October 25, 2020 

A Universal Purpose

 This morning the sun rose gloriously
 Over the distant hills as it does most mornings
 And now it douses its flaming crown
 In the western sea. Tomorrow
 I expect it’ll do the same
 Although it might not.
 Birds sing shrilly in the evening trees,
 You’d think the trees were singing.
 I wonder whether these have a meaning
 Or some universal purpose.
 Exquisite beauty certainly, though it happens
 More often than not. Isn’t it enough,
 If it’s beautiful and I love it?
 Isn’t that enough?
 We look for meaning in our lives
 As though it were some precondition,
 As though we must prove our usefulness
 To Someone or Something.
 Words have meaning, but we don’t.
 We are their sayers, their creators.
 They serve us or they don’t.
  
                                                      October 18, 2020 

On Reading
Fabrice Poussin

A Special Dictionary

 Once there was a man
 Far away in time from us.
 It doesn’t matter what his name
 Will have been since nobody
 Will have paid attention to him.
 Anyway, he liked the meanings
 Of words but not the words themselves
 Because the words never stuck around
 But left the meanings to fend for themselves
 Which they couldn’t very well do
 Since their roots sank deep down
 Entangled in the loam of people
 Long dead. The words would flit off
 Like butterflies to the next flower
 That would open its petals to it.
 The man decided he’d send the words
 Packing and he’d stand guard over
 All the meanings. He’d make
 A special dictionary once and for all
 Of all the meanings he could think of
 With nary a word to slip or slide away.
  
                                                                   October 13, 2020 

The Truth Is

 The truth is
 I don’t know why I’m here.
 I guess if I weren’t here,
 I’d be there
 Or somewhere else.
  
 Maybe the one who is here
 Wouldn’t be me.
 Perhaps he or she would be
 Someone else
 Or no one at all.
  
 The truth is
 Being is not so clear cut.
 It’s not that I have doubts,
 It’s just I’m not so sure.
  
                                          October 10, 2020 

On Love

 What can you tell us about love?
 I’m not talking about moral love,
 The love-your-neighbor love
 Or even the love of children or animals.
 I’m talking about that other love,
 That love of the other
 That consumes you in its fires
 While leaving you whole,
 That like a whirlwind lifts you up
 So high you can’t breathe anymore
 Or a whirlpool that pulls you under,
 That moves in mystery
 And cannot be described or understood
 Because love is,
 Love is like Enoch who walked with God
 And was not.
  
                                                           September 9, 2020 

©2020 Mike Stone
All rights reserved

Author:

The focus of "The BeZine," a publication of The Bardo Group Beguines, is on sacred space (common ground) as it is expressed through the arts. Our work covers a range of topics: spirituality, life, death, personal experience, culture, current events, history, art, and photography and film. We share work here that is representative of universal human values however differently they might be expressed in our varied religions and cultures. We feel that our art and our Internet-facilitated social connection offer a means to see one another in our simple humanity, as brothers and sisters, and not as “other.” This is a space where we hope you’ll delight in learning how much you have in common with “other” peoples. We hope that your visits here will help you to love (respect) not fear. For more see our Info/Mission Statement Page.

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