Κερκυρα

 In the wilderness of the green lush trees,

Between the sea and the hills;

Mighty Poseidon of the seas -

Upon the dazzling beauty of Kerkyra -

Stumbled head over heels:

"I live in the seas, and I know the lands,

I have come from far and wide,

I know of beauty, and I know of love;

But those of your kind, no one can find."

Kerkyra answered with a sweet low voice,

Making it clear there was no choice:

"This rendezvous is meant to be,

As quickly gone as it came;

For I belong here, and you in the sea,

And our paths are not the same."

It rained all day long,

Over the lands, and seas and piers,

As mighty Poseidon, low in the heart;

Waved his goodbyes in tears.

Die tyd stap aan…

 The time marches on undeterred,

As if with some destination in mind;

We briefly march on in tandem, then off to the absurd,

In Nature’s thrifty time of the most stubborn kind.

Only forward we march, never to return in time;

Arrested with no bail, but charged with no crime.

This life

 After all is said and done,
And I am back to atoms and ash;

Even if the worlds stop turning,
As generations come and go;
I wouldn’t have wished this life,
My life - be it as it may,
To have turned any other way.
This unique life that comes once;

This short life with no spare:

Yet with the unique people I  share;

Nothing makes me wish it away:
Nothing of value can give me a scare.
Let it be known to all that come;
And let it be known for all that care.

Eudaimonia

 Time and time again we learn;

About virtues in the human kingdom:

That a life worth living;

Is attained through wisdom.

Not through excess but temperance;

And not through cowardice but courage;

I assure you, son, is attained;

The worthy life of a sage!

A well-lived life is just;

And justice is neither bought nor sold:

It matters not, then, my son;

How much you possess of gold.

If you worry little of externals;

In your pursuit of these virtues;

The world of eudaimonia will be yours;

You shall thrive as you choose.

Timeless irony

 What is in nature like time;

So greedy and stubborn;

That consumes everything;

On its way, at every turn?

What is so impatient like time;

That hustles all but waits for none;

In whose mercy nothing mends;

But in whose cruelty all burn?

Nothing so timeless like time;

In a petty, vindictive way;

Has led everything in existence;

Towards ruin and decay.

What a twist of ironies, then;

That “time heals all things”:

When it should only be acknowledged;

For the decomposition it brings.

Nothing like time, I suspect;

Is so malicious and backward;

With no will to introspect;

But always looking forward.

Consolations

 The little things of this world;

Such as the objects of my desire;

The fleeting moments of joy;

Or the ephemeral bursts of ire:

Are they not the circumstances of my will;

And hence under my own control?

Why, then, are external factors,

Blamed, allowed, to play any role?

The eternal realities of happenstance;

Flowing in conformity with nature;

Are they not beyond the confines;

Of my controlled causal structure?

Why, then, be bothered and mourn;

The things that come unwilled, unsought?

For the trifling things of my brief sojourn;

Are within my control, or not?

My immature soul, be stoic: live the present with virtue;

For the past and the future are, forever, out of view.

The life of man

 Thou shalt not laugh,

Nor shalt thou cry;

Thou shalt not reason, nor yell;

Thou shalt not praise heaven,

Nor canst thou speak ill of hell.

O! Listen! Man of earth!

Know your place, and act;

As would an unconscious shell-

Of nothingness-

With no stories of a life to tell!

Listen to the master of your soulless being,

For else … does it not ring a bell?

[Hint: she will land you in the best of hell,

Of eternity’s potential well.]