The World's Fears

(By Gub, 2004)

The world’s fears 

Are a dark smear 

On the white silk 

Petticoat of hope. 

The flash of lace 

Excites a trace 

Of security, 

But beneath 

The dark coat 

Of leather 

Goat, 

The impulse to grasp 

A better thing 

Is scarcely appalling. 

To live 

To lie 

To embrace 

All things 

Then die 

Seems 

Such a harsh 

Harmful 

Hurt. 

Easier 

To rely on dirt 

The black 

Smuts 

Of helplessness 

Which abound. 

In spite of light 

The coal that burns 

Betrays the flame 

With soot 

And shame. 

The fire crackles 

But the heart is shackled 

To the dull grey morn, 

When the ash must fall 

Empty 

Cold 

Into the dry 

Dust of dawn. 

Believe that was always so, 

That man stepped out Into a fading glow 

That God slept 

Unsentient 

Unstretched 

By man’s 

Suffering. 

In the hollow 

Tunnels of open space 

One thing separates 

That eternal sea 

From a cruel Fathomless 

Divinity. 

The touch, 

The feel 

Of what is real 

Death’s rift 

A precious gift 

Between love And living 

Reminding all 

That with no pain 

There is no yearning 

No desire to recall 

That fragile, delicate 

Moment when 

Man flew 

Unconscious 

But 

Loved 

Earthward 

Touching trees 

Flowers 

The green and blue 

Of Earth's power 

Creatures humble, noble 

Sustaining grace 

Perpetuating 

Opportunity 

Continuation 

Of the race…

There the knowledge 

That confounds 

Also astounds 

With without Redemption 

Man’s fate 

An open gate 

Step out 

Step forward 

Life is for the living 

Who, 

Give 

Thrive On a multiple 

Purpose… 

Reach no conclusion 

Seek no seclusion 

Share what has been 

Storyboard what is seen 

Conjugate with sense 

Reside in the day (present tense) 

Sleep light, sleep long 

Kiss whomever 

You see 

Whether or not they belong 

Time repays 

What is given away 

Whilst closeted seconds 

Become hours wasted In mean and lonely play. 

Consider this when all is done, 

The day is over 

And you have sung your song 

Will others hear the music 

After you have gone, 

Will they punch the juke-box 

Or sigh 

Relieved 

That you 

No longer have your say… 

The future 

Call 

Is passing through 

The present 

You. 

No place 

To hide 

Or deride 

The residue 

Of “seeming” 

What you are 

Is what you leave 

Wear only one heart 

On your sleeve 

Be sure it’s yours 

Fatal 

Pause 

To strap 

Some Other 

Face 

Above your 

Neckline 

No game 

Of consequence 

Here 

Unless 

You are what you fear.