Monday, 22 November 2010

The Kingdom of Heaven is Like...

Spooky supernatural stories will have to wait. I have another poetic offering in the offing. Not my greatest work, I'll admit, but some of the lines are fair to decent. Feedback is most welcome.

While others might have found their place
By giving in and saving face,
And many are the kind that chose
To swim the way the current flows,
I far prefer to such a set
The ones not loath to make a bet
On odds unfair and prospects bleak
And risk the loss of what they seek,
Who disregard the passing fad
And do not miss the things they had
When sold was all their earthly wealth
In hopes of winning joy by stealth.
No sure thing is the hidden yield
Beneath some undistinguished field
Which randomly is bought and sold
Because it may hide buried gold.
And what of him whose only gain
Consists in fruit of oyster's pain
For which he'd give up all to take?
It may well be a clever fake!
Such ventures will not ever earn
The smile of an insurance firm,
Nor would economists approve
As valid a financial move
Which had such low chance of success,
Whose sure end would be sore distress
For anyone who chanced to take
Such low odds for so high a stake.
But sense and safety won't suffice
For dungeon-dwellers, 'mid their lice,
Who won't accept their grim surrounds
But second-guess the dubious grounds
On which their fellows built a case
For keeping to one's proper place.
A prison schedule keeps the mind
Alert and fit, but disinclined
To look beyond it's narrow walls.
But somewhere out there, something calls...
An unobtrusive, subtle sound,
A snatch of music echoing round,
A half-remembered melody
Like waked love or old company;
A siren song scores have declined
That grabs the heart and wakes the mind.
Though many happy minds remain
Encelled, with means to entertain
Themselves for endless hours on end,
A few, a very few, contend
That only by their breaking free
Will they save their humanity,
And maybe even come upon
A greater one than Solomon.
So contrary to all advice,
A small band reckons small the price
And, staking all on what they'll find,
They smile and, trembling, leave behind
The multitudes who found their place
By giving in and saving face.

No comments: