| First Lesson | | | | No gestures of guilt from the heart |
| My second-self said told me years ago, at fifteen: | | | | They live in a twisted dark, like: |
| "What should I teach you?" And I stopped still in | | | | Life walking out of death! |
| silence and listened, and thought: "Should I tell you | | | | With grinding teeth in the middle of it: |
| in twenty-years or two-times twenty, you will be | | | | Kings and Queens of brown eyes |
| dried-up, perhaps crippled, perchance maimed | | | | Rubbish from the sea |
| from war? Should I tell you all you will have | | | | (Peacocks and Vultures in disguise) |
| learned from all the schools and colleges you've | | | | And all those lies upon lies-die |
| attended, all the culture you have seen and taken | | | | Inside their twisted truths...! |
| in, and all the science you have witnessed in your | | | | No: 2694 (May 25, 2010) |
| lifetime, is nothing but repugnant mockery? And | | | | A Minnesota |
| that man makes war in the name of God and | | | | Summer's Tale |
| humanity, for self-interests, and those who make | | | | It is a Minnesota summer's tale |
| it usually never fight in it. What can I teach you at | | | | That the leaves twist twilight over its many lakes, |
| fifteen that you'll remember at sixty, that you'll | | | | And the guideless wind swept leaves, lunge |
| need at nineteen that may do you some good | | | | forward, |
| now?" And I stood there and I listened-unspoiled | | | | Like flags and flakes, colourful veils and shawls, |
| from the hardships of life-for the most part. | | | | And the Minnesota moon falls warm, |
| | | | With the smell of burnt leaves, and the crouching |
| And I said to my second-self: "Teach me how to | | | | Cornfield crows flocking with the owls, and cows, |
| fight, how to shoot a gun and rifle, and to pull the | | | | Waiting for Minnesota's harvest to be, |
| metal pulley from the hand grenade, show me | | | | It is a Minnesota summer's tale indeed. |
| how to kill, and survive a war, a neighborhood, | | | | Of cornfields, and burning leaves, |
| how best to read the faces of human beings, | | | | With crows with wide wings, and scarecrows |
| how to use a bayonet, how best to aim the rifle, | | | | Stuffed with wilted weeds and woollen cloths |
| how to keep my cool and breath correctly under | | | | Coverings-as the crows comb the tepid sky, |
| rocket fire, how to crush bones if need be, and | | | | Waiting for morning- with bare white eyes, |
| to reset them. What do I do with a man with a | | | | Here is where the winds carry songs, |
| stomach wound? How about a head wound? All | | | | As the leaves pass by, and the cries of |
| these things I do not know, and more I'm sure I | | | | Hungary birds-once lost in the winter snows |
| need to learn-teach me." | | | | Curled up within their wings, sing |
| "How then should I presume to teach you?" | | | | Of a Minnesota harvest to be, a summer's tale...! |
| asked my second-self. | | | | No: 2697 (5-20-20109 |
| "Anyway you can!" I said. | | | | A New World from the Old |
| "There will be no more school to-day," said my | | | | (Poetic Prose) |
| second-self. | | | | When I was young, very young, I ruled the |
| "Why?" I asked. | | | | playgrounds at school with my energy, flashing |
| "You need to go have some fun, before the | | | | with courage and eagerness, as if in a battle, my |
| second lesson!" | | | | glance-keen, and from this I became an obstinate, |
| No: 2709 (5-29-2010) Poetic Prose | | | | pig-headed teenager, and then as a young adult I |
| Peacocks and Vultures | | | | shot up, thinking I was impossible and angry; I |
| (For my Neighbors in Lima) | | | | shrugged my shoulders thereafter, and then |
| They live on the wrong side of truth | | | | suddenly I quite drinking, and acquired an |
| My neighbours in, Peru, | | | | occupation-although before that, it had been the |
| Kings and Queens of brown eyes | | | | other way, I was amazed, I counted for |
| (Peacocks and Vultures in disguise) | | | | something-and thought, "What a world to go back |
| Under the May misty skies; | | | | to. |