Few are truly ecumenical in their tastes; most of us have our favored corners. My delight comes mostly from light verse, or poetry that was written before 1950. Not that the particular year is important, but I revert to a time before the confessionalists and post modernists, when poets were a little more reserved and when meter and rhyme still were thought to be worth the effort. So, here are the efforts of an unabashed “rhymer” on a set of projects ranging through, art, politics and science (plus a little personal history).
RESPECT
A pious priest from land untold
held aloft in his right hand
a symbol cast in heavy gold,
a symbol of his pious band;
a cross, or star, or crescent.
And with this relic, thrust on thrust,
while loudly crying God is Just,
he beat some godless peasant.
Tormented until blue and yellow,
the peasant, stout though he was poor,
grasped the object from the fellow
and cast it right across the floor.
Whereon the priest, in horror vexed,
did the sacred trinket fetch,
and chided the blasphemous wretch,
Please ̶ show respect.
PRIMAL CAUSE
Now think about that searing dot,
that point of latent time and space,
the seed of all that there would be.
If it emerged from who-knows-what,
then are we served to say that grace
of some mysterious deity
has caused this wondrous thing to be?
The story is—some godly prime,
of which we know—no single whit,
somehow—though we have no clue,
sometime—though before first time,
sowed that seed, the cosmic pit
that yielded all, made me and you.
And, so declared, it must be true.
The mystery is put to rest,
‘cause He (at least we know the sex)
is declared of omni three:
— Omni-potent—we must attest
nothing could this being vex,
— Omni-scient—which is to be
smarter than both you and me,
(the third “omni”—I’ve quite forgot,
but of these three were we begot.)
Or would you tread that firmer path
of science and uncommon sense.
For little gained is lightly guessed,
but wrought of physic and of math.
Conjecture is but mere pretense
until its presage is addressed.
and then is put up to the test.
And what a path does science show!
Inflating space at cosmic birth
precipitates to primal grit
which flocks and sets the stars aglow.
Such knowledge comes, with all its worth,
from hard research, not holy writ.
And while “causation” shuns us so,
let’s simply say, we do not know.
Should wonder lie in mental sloth—
then do not toil for nature’s laws
but rather, summon up a god
to spin the heavens from whole cloth—
then simply state a primal cause
and let the path of wonder plod
the vestry rather than the quad.