Trappings

Essence of survival’s seed
Is only ever as vital to me
As happiness aligned between
The nature and the need.

Wealthy neighbours trappings
My role could never afford,
Grow your golden shiny wrappings,
I’m happier being poor.

There’s nothing fine to me in fame,
All people I’ll not meet;
Filling thoughts, a foreign name,
For rhymes which float and fleet.

I turned my ego inside out,
Ego flogged my soul impure;
It thrashed in nets, and lunged about,
May meditation some day cure.

Ode To Compassion

If governments spent
As much taxpayer funding
On Compassion
As governments do spend
On posturing
And prevention,
Assassins and
Suppression,
Navel gazing
Ministries of War,
Prostitution of Race,
Antagonisms,
Beaurocracy
And laundry bills,
Then would we restore
Purity of purpose,
Currently a famine,
A hundred year long drought,
From the current pretenders
Through the Tudors
And Dark Ages,
All the way down until
Timon of Athens.

If only the ancient
Predecessors
Had invested in
Forums for Compassion,
Perhaps our sufferance
Would subsequently lessen,
Instead of obedience to
These Departments for Death
And Injustice.