The Primordial Man

It happened so quickly.
So quietly.
Like a mosquito’s bite,
It drew the blood of man.
Instantly, the wound festered
Upon his civil hand.

His intelligence ran
Away to a far off land,
Yet left a buzzing in his ears.

As he left the city street
He found his safety in
A green forest’s retreat,
From fear of an unknown thing.

Away from dangerous constructs
His simple mind destructs
And slips into an innocent brain.

Reunited with Mother’s art.
Firmly settled in Nature's home.
He lay with peace across her heart,
That of soft mossy stone.

He lay with thoughts like a
Baby, all Awe and Woo.
Eyes interpret the sky’s
Characters of cloud and blue hue.

An eye of bright up above,
The Primordial man felt no love,
For it hurt to gaze upon.

He tried to hide from
Its pervasive hot pain,
But sure enough it would come
To find, where he had lain.

Further into the bush
He pushed until
He’d gone far enough,
Then he sat there still.

Contemplation crept inside,
His mind where observation once had dwelt.
(And this is when his spirit died)

“What of this light,”
He lay beneath.
“That I cannot fight?”
What becomes belief

Is born of superstition.
Origins are obvious;
Putting man in a position
Under sky light, utterly oblivious!

He’d gotten this far in
With little interaction,
Running like a mad man

All flight and fright
Until the black of night
Absorbed his sight
With distant twinkling light.

“A spectacle! What a thrill!”
Until the storm did gather.
(Now the twinkling night, it did kill.)
A dove floats on white feather

Holding an olive branch true.
In it he saw something beautiful,
In it he saw something new.


July 19th/2011

Time Bandit: Poem

The Time Bandit

I woke today
To see him slip
Out and away,
I chase, I trip,

I fall, I stay
On the cold hard
Truth of yesterday.
Evidence of

His midnight play
Is marked by bare
Spots swept away.
I can only stare

As he will say
Through a wide smile;
“Sorry, my prey!
Linger awhile,

That I cannot
Try to do, or
Even stand the thought!”
What he said that for,

Left me distraught
And followed out
The door he had sought
Out to place doubt

Inside my thought:
That he could be
Something he’s not.
Rage you ruin me.

He has to be fought!
Surrender or fight.
Almost out of ear shot,
Out of eye sight.

I became aware
Of what has been
Caught in his snare;
Time stolen unseen

It was right there
On watch and clock
Now they are bare.
No more tick tock.


July 19th/2011