IN A WORD

What is, in it-self, a little law?

That defines and limits things?

What little word can stand alone?

Alone and mean any-thing?

NOTHING

This is two words combined.

No-thing, isn’t that some-thing?

Con is the glue that binds together text

As intention defines and limits law.

 

The key to judicial knowledge

Is not the letter of the law;

But the original vision that

The Founding Fathers Saw,

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Poetry

Leaves of Fall
II
I I
softly falls, the leaves of fall
then the snow comes and covers them all.
standing around are skeletons of trees
standing around without any leaves
ice and snow will have its way
thru crystal night and frozen day
days grow longer
Sol shines stronger
softly breaths the breath of Spring
sap will rise and birds will sing
lovers, of their needs, will pant
farmers, seed, will plant
life itself renew
anew

What fills your sails?

 

What floats on the mind like a yacht on a sea?

This yacht is mine, my private sea.

You have your own, where ye be.

 

Even if a multitude, pressed, on every side;

It’s your own private yacht you ride.

Tell me friend, what fills your sails?

 

You quote me Freud with shallow draft

With tempus tossed, parental wrath!

That’s what blows you from here to there?

 

Shut your eyes and look around.

Sound your depths and you will see

There is no bottom to your sea.

 

There is no one there but you to blame.

You own, the glory and the shame.

Your choices made you who you are.

 

Tell me how to torture an enemy.

Your greatest fears you shared with me.

The measure you use, your measure is.

 

Losers may resort to blame

For an illusion of victory over those they defame

Not only to lose but to lose without shame

 

Listen to an accuser reveal his own measure

Listen while he bears his soul

with lists of his priorities and goals.

 

A faithful spouse is the last to know.

A thief jealously guards his property.

A cheater loses the ability to trust

Garbage in is garbage out.

Whatever floats your raft;

or floats your mighty craft.

© David E. Spry 12/27/05 

I Entered The World

 

I slid down a slippery bank of birth

Into a current of life and time on earth

Submerged in ebb and tug and surge

Distant shores ignored and unobserved

 

I broke the surface and found breath

Clear and cool and thin and fresh

The current flows when and where it will

The moment, an eddy-a tack without sail

 

I pop to the surface now and again

Just to see where I am going and where I have been

I keep getting glimpses of a distant shore

So I stay up more and more.

© David E. Spry 01/14/2006

Wenatchee River

Wenatchee

 

Don’t vacillate, just dive on in.

Kick on down to where the fishes swim.

Don’t fight the current, just let yourself go.

Enjoy the bubbles, enjoy the show.

 

Feel the current on your skin.

Feel the breath you’re holding in.

Collect fishing lures stuck in the rocks.

Stuff periwinkles in a sock.

 

The river will kill you if your not its’ friend.

If you fight it, you’ll never win.

Look up and see what the fishes see.

Look at the bank and you’ll see me.

 

Or perhaps yourself (when you were young).

 

 

© David E. Spry

Don’t Be a Half Wit

 

On the right hand.

Talk plainly-

to be understood.

Think plainly-

to understand.

 

On the left hand.

Bare your soul

with visions of your love

Roil the fecund mind

with simile and metaphor in prose

 

But when you deal

with the one you truly love

given to you from above.

Don’t be a half wit!

 

Use both hands.

(c) David E. Spry

Opposites

OPPOSITES

 

She was spread thin and brought low;

She swooned, light headed, in her heat

Her weakness cried out for his strength to flow

He, cool and distant, shifted his weight

 

At first his passage was but a breeze

Whose lips just brushed the sea?

But she shrank down and out of reach.

He wanted her most fiercely.

 

Turbulently they danced for days and nights.

Blinded to all they trampled in their need.

Lightening bled from coiled sky.

Run, run away or you may die!

 

 

The land lay twisted, bent, and torn.

The shore wept salty tears to mourn.

 

The passage of Katrina