You the poor, the weak, the orphan
The simple minded, the infant
The elderly, the immigrant
You, the black sheep and the black swan
Our Lords and our Masters
Let the board sound
Rabih
Our Lords and Our Masters
Tag: Poem
The Slaver and the Fool
And what remains to be undone
The other side, mirror of faithful slavery
Of the fool who blossomed on unfaithful favors
Now paying dearly, hoarding ages in a day
And living merely through the days, not the ages
For a fool is slave not only to his folly
He is bound by the illusions of those above
His will enslaved by the greed of unholy realms
Tied to multitudes of unbreakable ribbons
Colorful threads, pink and purple, tiny and cute
Strings of dread, ropes of bondage, hiding in colors
Binding the fool, tripping the sage, trampling the voice
Of those who speak for what remains to be undone
By the Slaver, by the Fool, sides of the same coin
The left and right hands of a behemoth called Greed
To which all are slaves.
Let the board sound
Rabih
Farewell Dance
And the matching season — Remembering those who left
Farewell dance of rust and wind ushering the blight
Whirling down gold and copper threads, disrobing trees
Precious beads washed ashore in waves of paling light
Autumn leaves swirling in a cold November breeze
Amber leaves and golden seeds in a final quest
Welcome sweet melancholy in eternal rest
Paved in vermilion frost, ephemeral delight
Secret place and ancient maze, laying out of sight
Rest in peace oh immortal souls who came before
Soon enough, Summer will be knocking at the door
Let the board sound
Rabih
The Poet’s Legacy
A poem, what else…
A poem be it told or kept hidden within
Is balm to feelings scorched or sword to gloating sin
Its fire purifies the souls to be redeemed
It’s honey to the heart longing to be relieved
Blessed is the poet for even he be slain,
To dust his body turns but his poems remain
He may have lived to see that he must die in vain
His solace lies within ideas that remain
Will heavens his soul claim, or shall he cross the Styx
On but a frail vessel along fellow mystics
Who dared defy the gods with but some words and rhyme
And lightly will depart when vengeance seals their crime
He parts leaving behind no legacy nor gold
His poem is a child he shall not live to raise
Entrust it to the world he leaves without a praise
His poem is the praise he never would be told
To those who will remain when everything is lost
The happy few of us who crave poems the most
His poem is a gem he bequeathed to the world
His poem is a world bequeathed to fellow men
Let the board sound
Rabih
The Idea Sounding Board 