No Trace

I walk the streets to stray around
As horns hang still, surrounding cars
No people pass, no flowers found
The clouds stay dark, the sun stays far
No light, no sound—a man was hung
These buildings block the burning sun
We take in air with dying lungs
Restored to life against the guns
There is no more, it’s all in vain
Without direction known, unknown
A daydream where it’s all the same
The city cries on buried stones
Forgotten landscapes, desert blooms
A people left by littered gates

Venice, California

I sit and watch the waters flowing by
Before the flower gardens seen by all:
A place like this you're free to loosen ties
And break the empty shell of sudden squalls.
Back home the path unwinds a thousand links
Of men and women full of daily cares:
We have our wine and more but cannot drink,
Enmeshed between a place of name and wares.
Outside the skies turn gray and thunder pounds—
We hide inside as air begins to thresh

True Learning

Beauty refined in words,
You say, “I know it all,”
And so your mind is blurred—
But if it were, “I am so small,”
The lengths you could be spurred.
You carry coins with scorn,
Enriched like grass in the wind;
But all your jewels have worn
And wasted in fruitless sin,
A beast from the wild born.
Yet true learning dwells inside, well-hidden,
And all is there, with nothing forbidden.

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