Can Ye Not Discern?

/ Portofino

PA Towns

How many there are who gaze
toward the sky but do not see,
or, more, those who wear blinders
to the sunset or the dawn.  They hide
their eyes from the face of the sky!

More oblivious than the Pharisees,
clueless as the High Council, seeking
what stands before them, asking
for what they are unable to read.

Gentlemen and ladies we stand
butt deep in prophets who wag
their tongues before us, declaiming
in chorus strident their fruited ignorance.

We seek a sign!  We seek a sign!
our hearts unanswerably beat out.
But what shall we ultimately be given,
but the whale’s tale, or a crap-load of bunkum?

When seekers from politicians seek
answers that of that kindred are kept
then huge lumps of lucre will pass
from hand to hand, and we shall know…

no better off are we.

 

Tonight at dVerse Poets Pub, Mish is serving up drinks and this prompt: “Today I’d like you to choose a sign as a visual prompt. Let it speak to you metaphorically or as an allegory. Let it take you to a deeper place or even a comical place. Your sign does not need to have words, as symbols have stories and voices too. The choice is yours.”

44 thoughts on “Can Ye Not Discern?”

    • As I said to someone else, “clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right” remains the most prophetic of lyrics ever! That’s as much of politics as you’ll have of me, m’lady!

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  11. The photo: Paradise in 3, Desire in 5, Panic in 7 – better get off at Paradise I think. Going further would have one’s ignorance informed with fruit unpalatable. Yet, Paradise, not being so great as it’s made out to be, bypass all to Gobbler’s Knob where Phil hangs out not where you’d think he’d be … and a long winter to you all he’d say … you wrote a tragi-comedy. Apologies for the lazy comment! 🙂

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    • I’m sorry I didn’t respond right away. Been hither and yon. And at this time of night, yawn. You talk about mixing four ingredients that interact like oil and vinegar and… oil and vinegar. The only commonality is the humor inherent in each. Jesus got irony. His Father created irony. We either laugh or cry. I learned much by visiting hospice patients and their families in their homes. Much laughter… much laughter.

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  15. A very thought provoking translation of the sign. I really do think politics can and has become more of an identity and an entity for some countries. It’s bigger than it needs to be, losing sight of what matters.

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