Author: Makar

  • Mimesis — Nemesis

    Challenging your Philosopher Kings Our Flights of fancy are presently Bound to corrupt your perfectly Crafted warrior spirits And so easily deceived These rulers you have gently Coaxed and coddled through education Yet admitting we all are too dumb for your nation My lovely metre and flourishing words Can outflank your wisdom, ursurp with absurd…

  • What will–?

    Guardian Never to know The pleasures of The Arts What do you Protect except For your place and Your part? Some great scheme Of society Never to be Questioned Raised to rule To kill for A promise Unfulfilled As the Citizens You’re made to protect Rebel as they try To freely express Banished at the…

  • Chemical Reaction

    Silenced by Fire. The orange lightning Spreads over my words. They are burnished one Last time into my eyes As my breath turns My last words to dust, All their energy Taken away By the fury of the sun.

  • Painting is a Prison

    No motion in painting Save the brush stroke Permanently locked in Line structure & 2 Dimensions Trapped on the canvas Never offering the subject The opportunity To exercise Free will. Painting is a prison.

  • Observer of a New Light

    We enter Asking for your attention The town crier Speaking of the here And the now Present for this expression Of the hearing Spoken in clear and present tense The words of the people So that they may be heard: What they say— How they say— That we may say about them And this place;…

  • Poetry Is A Prison

    Poetry is a prison Capturing Things Onto Pages Leaving Every thing On the Shelf ||| || |||| Poetry is a privilege Turning Things Into Words ||| /||| | Poetry is a gift Giving Things To The People Saving Things By The People Remembering Things Of The People

  • Poets Bureau

    The poet stands sentinel, memory of the City. I am needed in the streets. Town crier. Breaking Muse. Calling forth the words of this generation. MindScribe. Writing into the minds of the people; making them remember to be free. We must compose a new poetry. Democratic verses aspiring towards our words in common.

  • Plato Bans The Bard

    As Plato would have it (though I can’t help but point out that science alone turns dirt under the foundations of his world view), the poet is to be exiled from the perfect society. As a young man, I would sit in the canyon and read The Republic in the cool breeze of the summer…

  • A Philosophical Question

    If a poem sits on the shelf and no one reads it, is it poetry?