Sunday, September 30, 2012

Drag Strip Run Horizon-ward

These fields are remade
renewed upon our blood
nourished with the
strident calls of those
hurt and dying in the
smoke and roar of battle
all those invisible things
that yet linger upon the
cusp of knowledge,
just beyond the horizon
we've surpassed in
haste and with eyes
closed, sleeping through
the unintended consequences
of our skill for rationalization,
our hope for something greater,
our sense that we are in some
way omnipotent, despite all
evidence to the contrary.

And would we be contrary
or so adjudged, when we
chose to ignore the evidence
of all those who, despite
criticism, gainsay our
claims of omnipotence,
somewhere hoping for sense
and purpose greater than
hope, given blindly into
rationalizations of our own
bad deeds, a skill for which
we have long since chosen
to ignore the consequences,
nor even claimed that they
are unintended, but that
we are not through sleeping,
that our eyes shall be
closed and our steps taken
in haste until we are
surpassed on our long
drag strip run horizon-ward,
knowledge the cusp we shall
never linger upon, things
we find invisible always
obvious to all the rest,
as red and raw as the battle's
roar and the dying hurt
of strident soldiers, undernourished
and giving blood to renew
and remake our fields.

Patrick M. Tracy

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Haikus, Written 7/6/12

Cooking off the haze
this lazy summer sunshine
the grass still rain-damp

Stick-legged wading birds
fill the shallow marshland pools
below bearded trees

Atop the hill, people
rendered in miniature
faces indistinct

The goat herd surrounds
strange eyes mocking my footfalls
home so far away

The calm of morning
shattered in the hawk's screaming
sky glows, not quite blue

Patrick M. Tracy

Monday, September 10, 2012

Soothsayer's Vision

Our divinations have shown us
a wonderland of lush grasses
and trees slowly waving in the
freshening breeze

All the features of a paradise
we have long since renounced
are there, out there at the
end of forever

A vision, this beautiful world
somewhere out there beyond
today, in the dreaming territory
after we're gone.

Patrick M. Tracy