Saturday, August 7, 2010

BAD-BOOK

There was a time, the tale is told,
When numbered books of Moses, and the mighty Mages,
Would travel through the air, mystic, metaphysic,
Like winged Hermes or Hermes Trismegistus,
To appear, on lonely beaches, secret places,
At the bidding of the occultist scientist.

Today, the library, whole libraries,
Through HTTP and TCP,
Travel through the air to appear, everywhere,
To everyone, in homes and schools and libraries
At the clicking, at the bidding, of the lowly mouse.
As we stand before the tree of knowledge

Of good and evil, to pluck and suck forbidden
Fruits from sacred texts and textbooks of caduceus,
Believing that the tree of life was never lost,
Remember, before writing there was the Word;
So be careful what you do, be careful what you see
And, above all, be careful what you say.

Copyright ©2010 by G. Newton V. Chance

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George Newton Vivian Chance (Trinidad and Tobago) -- member of the Poet Society of Trinidad and Tobago, http://poetssocietytt.blogspot.com/ and the World Poets Society, http://world-poets.blogspot.com/ -- born in Tobago on 3rd March 1957. While residing at Rio Claro was inspired to write over a hundred poems at the turn of the Millennium. Hobbies include playing wind instruments, building computers, observing nature, reading and writing poetry. Believes that the power of a song is in its ability to evoke emotions by the marriage of lyric and music but that music without lyric can be just as powerful, that lyric without music can also be just as powerful, that there is music in the lyric and that lyric can be simple yet profound. Also, in this the age of computers, would like to model his lines after simple and efficient code and, analogous to Object Oriented Programming, achieve most of his imagery from nouns and verbs, avoiding the bloat and excess of unnecessary adjectives. This is what he aspires to attain in his poetry.

I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older
than the flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.

I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy bosom turn
all golden in the sunset.

I've known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

by Langston Hughes

the poet writes the poem;
the reader gives it life
(© G. Newton V. Chance)
Make somebody happy (© Alexander Ligertwood & Carlos Santana)

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