Two years longer than Keats a poet still kites
Unseen by many, unheard by many though writing for many
Maybe because at the knees of Orpheus and Mauseus
But steal still he sits smittened
By Hesiods and Homer
The blind who saw and wrote truth home
He who saw the smile of an eagle from the angle
Of Ha-ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha ha-ha! Sharp in pitch
Like its claws, acute in message, like its vision
In communication with its inner oracle
Calling upon fellow Ajaxes
To show them the island shore home grave to Nyakiamo and Yiega
The tigers of an eagle gene tree
Bap! Bap-bap-bap! Bap-bap-bap bap!
The full wing span take-off sound gives an idea of weight,
Napoleonic combat force, Trojan tactics and agility perfected
To out smart, out pace alert senses
That swish fish deep depths of illusioned safety
As Courage and Moderation
From Achilochus beak feeds the eagle's patience fountained will for success
Stoic, the revelations of the sun size eyeballs, in triumph or tribulation,
Both are its duty ordained
Like the allotment of a poet
Kite high but unseen by many, unheard by many though writing for many
Thus for the legacy of his nest, he will continually claw truth
And hurl it at the door steps of hearts of men
To feed on, and drink to, for the truth awaits patiently ahead
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