Friends and Foes Long Gone

Though I appear to be unaware,
I’ve learn of your hidden sleep.
For I’ve heard your silent whispers
and without knowing sometimes heed.

Our frequent times were long ago.
The good and the bad are blurred.
Yet though my memory maybe dull,
your patterns have no cure.

You habits of my childhood,
you patterns of my youth,
you voices of long gone friends,
can all aid me or abuse.

I may declare “I was not myself”
but ’tis because myself I do not understand.
I am larger than any one of you —
it is as this multitude that I clearly stand.

— by Sabio Lantz, September 2017



“Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself;
(I am large, I contain multitudes.) ” — Walt Whitman


Constellation Borders

Constellation Borders

International astronomers debated
how to divide up the sky.
Each stubbornly clinging to the wisdom of their ancients.
Each knowing their star-borders were the best.

The Chinese would not part with their black tortoise,
whose stars were shared with the greek water-carrier.
While the Greeks battle to honor the hunter,
while the Indians insist on honoring his hunted deer.

Though no star suffers ownership,
nor are any close to those in their vacinity,
men fight to draw borders in the sky,
to give meaning to the months in borderless time.

Similar to how they draw borders to collect taxes,
to fund wars against each other.
for each domain pretends to know what is best
and true.


Prompt:   Grace, @dVerse Poets, challenges us to write about borders. In case it is not clear (as one commentor made known), the constellation “debates” were fictional device for this poem to show our self-deceptive parochial natures. The Chinese Black Tortoise and the Greek Aquarius share the same stars, as do the Greek Orion and the Indian Mriga.



The End of Theology

The End of Theology

The end of a valid argument
is its conclusion
which must follow logically
from its premises.

The premises can be about flies,
or you or I
or anything actually
and they can even be false premises.

But in the end,
validity only depends on the coherence.
Not the truth:

Flies and humans are animals.
All animals have souls.
God cares equally for all souls.
Therefore, smashed or squashed,
the fate of a fly must be the same as ours.

Is that ending valid?
Most would insist that something
is afoot when concluding that our end,
can be no different from that of a fly.

— Sabio Lantz, August 2017


Prompt: Paul, @ dVerse Poets, asks us write a poem about “the end”.


All in the View

All in the View

In this December picture,
you can see the view I had,
the street this summer is different
and doesn’t feel so sad.

But now I sit and wonder,
perhaps winter was also kind:
for though summer is warm and bright
there’s nothing better than winter’s wine.

by Sabio Lantz, June, 2017


Prompt: Lillian, @ d’Verse Poets, challenges us to write a poem about our own window and include a photo.

When Pepper Ain’t Pepper

Black Pepper hails from India
while Cayenne Pepper comes to us from Mexico.
You’d never guess today
because origins tell us little.

Sichuan Pepper is citrus,
which my son calls Electric Lemon!
With all these misnomers,
you’d think we’d learn not to trust labels.

— by Sabio Lantz, June 2017


Prompt: Kim, at d’Verse Poets, challenges us to write a Quadrille (44 word poem) using the word “Pepper”. Three different plant families Piperaceae (black pepper), Nightshade (capsicum: cayenne pepper) and Citrus (Sichuan pepper) all contain peppers but that is all they have in common — a name.

stormA Woman named “Storm”

Storm rolled into the party
expecting all eyes blinded
by her lightening appearance
and all ears deafened
by her thunderous New Age wisdom.

Yet, she opened her mouth
and clouds thickened,
bright colors dulled and eyes rolled
like waves over a murky pond.

— by Sabio Lantz, June 2017

Prompt: De Jackson, @ dVerse Poets, challenges us to write a 44-word poem (a Quadrille) which uses the word “storm”. I have shamelessly used this chance to introduce one of my favorite comedians, a pianist and song-poem-ballad writer, Tim Minchin. This poem is inspired his “poem” called “Storm” — click here to see the YouTube presentation from whence the pic above was lifted.

Beware of Similarities

Though I can’t see in your car window,
you appear to be a driver, just like me:
Your car is clean and your tires full;
We are both driving nicely down the road.

Then suddenly, I am ripped from my car
and I sitting in your back seat.
Your girlfriend is screaming at you
and the car stinks of cheap booze.

You are waving your hands angrily,
conducting a symphonic cacophony of curses
as the radio blares rageful rap
and then you turn to yell back at her.
Zap ! I’m back in my car.
I watch your car suddenly hit the lane divider
and crash into two other vehicles
which also look just like yours and mine.

— by Sabio Lantz, June 2017


Prompt:  Open Link Night at d’Verse Poets, hosted by BodhiRose.