On hearing Milton read

we were words first
tongues are not just what we speak
but are the total of our speech
holding all the things we can think to seek
tongues naming things we thirst

the written word is strange
I can not place my conscious mind
the words blur as my mind recites
but he who was blessed with being blind
could hear the voices true pure range

the written word is a copy far away
but spoken text brings sprits that rise
and through a nations true pronunciation
dry old text of Milton touches the sky
and with words, spoken in a blind mouth, he does define the fullest day

Speak Milton, for I am tired of reading
Speak Milton, for I am tired of Whitman's words
Speak Milton, the ancient English tongue new borne again
Speak Milton, and break our academic cords
Speak Milton, for inside me your heart is still beating.

The 3 pigs of London

A poem from 2011 Occupy London Stock Exchange, a bit dated but still fun

1. UKIP

These pigs made their home of hate
on any give day
they drank more than they ate

2. The media

This group made their home of lies
they started hacking cellphones
each time a school girl dies

3. The banks

They build their home of cash
they invested it in derivatives subprime vehicles
that turned out to be trash

4. The rest

The poor little piggies that could not pay the rent
they have to sleep in church yards
huddled in a tent.

Good bye to a mother

I can easily recall him saying
'hun' and 'bab'
across a crowded room
mixture of New England and Old Ghetto makes that voice
now passing as well

And seven sisters turning sunning saying
'Mom'
And one son
Part Jew, part Cowboy

It takes longer to remember all sixteen grandchildren
all equal she did adore
saying 'grandma'
without the duty I always heard the word before

But then the rest of us
Oh the lucky rest of us
who got to say the most beautiful word  ever heard
Just 'Janet' and 'Janet' and 'Janet' until the end of time
alone it stands without an equal and without a rhyme.

The New City of London

They say that Sex and Drugs still go on
but Rock and Roll is long long gone

Paleo London 1

I give you  Proto Homo-Empathicus
standing as thus
just like us.

silent at what it saw
standing in awe
at the wet sky grey
at a thing we see every day

the marriage of biology and awe
the image of a thing never saw
but open to us
an ascending airbus
thus
seen by Proto Homo-Empathicus