Monday, April 30, 2012

Selected Poety, by Bert Ogg


     It takes more than one light candle to show the way in shadow; one needs hundreds of different illuminating fire flies.


     Bathing in moon light, somber wolf cries around me, nature is with me.


       Drying off moon light, mocking laughter of black birds, nature is with me. Vultures do not acknowledge Foxes only existence.

Drunken Otter:

      There once was an otter who was a very famous potter.
      His pots were inlaid with gold, every single one was sold.
      But one day he became very bored and from his pots he drank liquor.
      He drank, and he drank, and became greener, and greener.
      His speech was slurred and dumber, his friend the badger politely told, " Do not drink from the pot, but from the drinking gourd!"
      The otter was so drunk when he jumped in the water he became a bobber.
      His words became even more graveled; he slobbered; he was drowning.
      The badger jumped in the river to save the otter tenfold.
      He rang the water from the otter's blubber to politely scold," Do not drink from the pot, but from the drinking gourd!"


One Who Writes On Stone:

Today is the day when the wolf cries
Rain falls from heaven in form of tears
The trees are quiet, the wind is still
Rivers turn to blood, otters soaked in red
Robins try to fly, but feathers turned to stone
Those who care will walk to the forest and mourn for the loss of life
The boy raised by the forest was the heart of life
Today is the day when the bear cries
The boy's name, "One who writes on stone"
His sadness was unknown, buy his joy was through tears
The attire he wore contrasted with the forest; red
One who writes on stone's mind was never still
He would sit on boulders, playing his flute, dancing; never still
Music writing was his life
He carved his music on rocks that shined crimson; red
Today is the day when the badger cries
Bee's and butterflies turn to tears
People who captured the boy have hearts made of stone
He who with out sin cast thy first stone
Gallows rope lay dormant and still
The boy chained, carving music, and in tears
One who writes on stone is at the end of his life
Today is the day when the widow spider cries
Peoples eyes who watch are red
The boy walks to the rope still dressed in red
Today is the day when the vulture cries
People lose creativity, their minds become still
It's not One who writes on stone's fault that he found beauty in life
But those who stop being and individual that become souls of tears
The noose is around the boys neck; he is in tears
Priests, business men, office officials, towns people, are dressed in red
People watch in anticipation to end the unusual boys life
Its a lot like One who walks away from omelas, but it's those who cast the first stone
People need to learn others have talents and not willing to lye still
Today is the day the hornet cries
Today was the day when all the animals cry, no on can hear the wailing of tears.
The boy dressed in all red, is now hanging quiet and still.
No more music will be written on stone, the very thing that sustained the forests life.

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