2017 01 19
Cold wind whips flag of stars and stripes at noon
when the woman with three eyes paints the moon
to gleam like porcelain mask of dead queen
who taught me how to design new machine
that calculates meaning for my strange dream
to explain why I weep by howling stream.
So many things happen on spinning world
that reveal where rainbow dragon lies curled
in huge lonely mountain on misty plain
that I must organize from swirling rain
coherent paradigm through puzzle frame
explaining events coded from my name.
I see new uncrowned king on temple lawn
swear pledge to elevate the loyal pawn
who hides the constitution of our state
behind the shining glory of gold gate
that bars our way to trees of paradise
where apples can be bought for the right price.
When the Lady of the Lake in gold crown,
that shines with emerald stolen by her clown,
puts honed sword Excalibur in my hand,
and commissions me to protect her land,
I hesitate, but go watch children play
capture the flag while pious parents pray.
I wonder, can I be honest and bold,
then climb the hill to ask the poet Turold
who puts his stringless guitar in my hand
and teaches me to sing across the land
new tale of heroes lost on sacred quest
who research nature with curious zest.
While reading Aeneid in ancient book
I enter Wonderland and climb the rook
where sweet Rapunzel calls my secret name
then teaches me to play her kissing game
in Garden of Eden by the dead tree
that once bloomed apples before I ran free.
My father named me Richard with wan smile
for I am the Rook Ward who pounds the spile
which should support the roof of his new hall
where I must dance with the porcelain doll
with blue eyes who enters dressed in pink gown
and beams at me beneath her silver crown.
Though sons of kings, spawned by the glowing hearth,
once ruled our land of gardens we call Earth,
we changed the game of rulership so men
must campaign for our loyal votes to win,
and thus control revolution of change
when we expand dominion of our range.
When sailing west I hang on the ship door
new map designed by Gerardus Mercator
and plot straight course across the surging sea
to Massachusetts where I plant new tree
whose seed first blossomed in Garden of Eden
and appoint myself to play apple warden.
I lay my hand on the old book of tales
and lift high the sword of justice and scales,
then swear to rule our wandering tribe of fools
who dismantle old boats to build new schools,
and protect the clan of the Holy Grail
ruled by our Empress who wears white lace veil.
I unite every land where our tribe dwells
and name it Anglonesia with new spells
that bind our hearts in paradigm of truth
to worship our new god, observant sleuth
who investigates nature with sharp eye
and proves that we are nothing when we die.
I wake from dream and stand before the world
then sing about explorers who unfurled
sails of curious search for nature of things
till we fly among clouds on shining wings
and map the endless history of mankind
so real world matches dream world in each mind.