TEK

Tek! Tek tek! Tek tek tek tek! Tek! Tek tek!
The woody pecker peck
Clouds assemble is a distant horizon,
Them of the local dialect scream "Koth mapek"
As the swallows, the swifts, the hawks, the crows
And the weavers try to understand why human brain
Is sharper than a falcon's beak
Yet slower than a sloth
Why sleepy like a snail, smeary like a slung
For clouds formed in the frame
Of their ancestors' eyes and dripped 'mapek'
Today, the form but fail to drench a man on a long trek
Fail to support tree sap and streak
At the bottom of plates, leave hunger
Honeyless hives
Flowers wither
Seeds no-longer form
How will fruit form?

Tek! Tek tek! Tek tek tek tek! Tek! Tek tek!
The sound of a pecker ready for a family
To be fed on rotten human eyeballs
That fail to see the dark rainless clouds
The starved soil
The love for oil
The orb has a boil;
Let all guard their groin
For in pain, fauna and flora boil

PIN-PRICKING CALM

Standards and measures
Of quantity and quality
I have have no qualm
But standards and measures
Of ethics and magnanimity
Takes away my calm

Who dare claim the cardinal points
In action, born of spiral forces of destiny
That walk us all away from standards and measures
Yet those caught and cuffed are banished by the tyranny of our hearts

Ask you i will for my will wields a curious sword
In a word, You? Think suits best
Think brains a waste if they cannot decipher the written word
And a man directionless if a bard is all he is at best

Standards and measures
Of quantity and quality I have no qualm
But standards and measures
Of ethics and magnanimity takes away my calm