The rose was succulent and red,

Spoke of passion and desire,

"Put it away," the raven said,

"Lest their ire we tempt."

You thought yourself invincible,

A knight, an angel of steel;

But what are you willing to fight for

When it's fire you breathe?

Wore the rose in your hair, 

The raven be damned,

The smell forever trapped in air,

Hail ignorance, oh gloriou...

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If only the bristles of a paintbrush,

The powder of an Etch A Sketch

Would a personality provide,

Make you master of your chiaroscuro,

Let you determine and decide

Just how much chaos

Good people get to criticize...

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Once upon a time, a reticent raconteur

encountered a professional flâneur;

the former asked the latter if a point

lay hidden in his picaresque existence,

at which our wanderer took no offense, 

but simply said: "At least my path

I respect; I search-find-lose,

while you swell with tales yet choose

to never burst, even though you know

that in a sea of everyday shells, 

...

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In the age of slogan veneration

And the vortex of misinformation,

Can you hear that hammer?

It's meant for the penultimate nail

In the coffin of nuance.

There's a bumper sticker serenade

Spreading and puncturing

The ear drums of the susceptible,

But perhaps La Déesse Raison

Can still swoop in ex machina?

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'Cherchez la femme' and heartbreak,

even for the prince of pirates.

Mary has his son in a barn,

alone, without Black Sam. 

But it's Barnstable's Old Jail

she now haunts.

A child born; a child lost,

and she waits still

for her Robin Hood of the Sea.

She waits in Eastham,

for one who'll never come...

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You built a castle of confidence,

the confidence of innocence, 

the innocence of ignorance,

and the ignorance of hope.

You hope the castle into a fortress,

yet the first stone still is cast

by the sinner and the brazen;

see? - already, there's a scratch.

More stones, more scratches, 

if you can't beat' em, join' em,

throw stones from the inside,

self-mani...

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