Category Archives: Crazy Voices Out There

Divided We Stand-off

This post is a poem written as a villanelle. Perhaps the most famous example of such a poem is Dylan Thomas’ “Do not go gentle into that good night”.  I posted the Thomas poem recently, allowing that it is one of my favorites. My villanelle, while nowhere near the quality of his (understatement), was written with thoughts of our current struggles as a nation. The era of Trump has been fraught with division. And while a true villanelle is nineteen lines with two rhymes throughout, I made a slight change in the last line, adding “oh sweet angels”. Anyway, here is my little poem…

Divided We Stand-off

by Joel Howard

 

Friendships bloodied amidst a fury blind,

on freedom’s meaning we rage and foment,

to chaos and regret we’re now resigned

 

only yesterday one could easy find

comfort born of closeness which now’s misspent,

friendships bloodied amidst a fury blind

 

loss upon loss leaves prized kindness behind

untold victims of rotting resentment,

to chaos and regret we’re now resigned

 

on ob’lisk to heaven we’ve grief-signed

echoing our long recurring lament,

friendships bloodied amidst a fury blind

 

fistful words, vengeful cries, quick to remind

we’ve drowned this land with relationships bent,

to chaos and regret we’re now resigned

 

oh Camelot! How once we dined,

as all about us the future shined!

friendships bloodied amidst a fury blind,

oh sweet angels, to chaos and regret we’re now resigned

Scarce Is Our Solace

Scarce Is Our Solace

 

The well last hour stood with ample Solace,

awaiting as ever the coming Crisis  – whether

Pain or

Confusion or

Dread or such  –  a

Calamity sure to

Cry out for Succor, for the Solace one ladles

deep to Soothe the soul’s Fiery Flare;

 

yet of late a dearth of Care renders

the landscape Dark, and a drought of

Compassion places man on

courses parallel, unable – unwilling – to

meet for even the briefest Touch of

Humanity.

 

The well now echoes dry and hollow, and any

promised Kindness is soon poised hollow, adrift in a ring of

Acrid smoke,

drifting Fetid in fast-whirling mockery

of those who dared again seek

even the slightest Consolation, across   

earth and to the heavens,

east to west

 

 

Information Breakaway

Information Breakaway

xxxxxxxxxxby Joel Howard

 

Of late purpose

I don’t know how

to know,

So in the dark I dwell;

 

I don’t know how

to know,

And in brief bliss I breathe.

 

I don’t know how

to know,

So please leave me be,

ask no questions nor

solicit thoughts of me,

 

And

for you to know

I don’t know how

to know

holds sweet promise

of a rare and blinding bliss