defending my thesis with a copy of coriolanus in my pocket

TOMORROW

How shall I wear the endless year

That will have ended when I bear

Their stare tomorrow, aware

a pending judgement will declare

how did the suits I fought impair

the final triumph of their snare?

The arena will be filled

With spectators by their expectations stilled:

All critics of a poor sort, thrilled

To recoil at the sweat by my bridles milled,

to add their preachy teaching shrilled

Above the other wails, and hail-

With what merits their frail lungs avail-

At the meek sacrifice of my entrail,

To rise, like vultures, on a swelling sail

When grossed by the efforts that fail.

And they will ask me to perform

What is more coming to their norm

Than it's in mine; a nodding to the form

Of our gathering with true and warm

Speeches, that the audience will inform

I've always wished sincerely to conform.

But how could have I ever

Cared to be their pleaser,

When I've been staggering, day after

Day, to aver pleasure, my destroyer,

to the measure of my wonder-

That from the plain composure 

Of my breath unbent by leisure,

Its steps did spread like in a seizure

That forbade reason any closure?

Not to be knowledgeable

That I did sell myself as able

To be a stable point within a fable;

But to create a marble crate-

Admirable but only in a stiff state-

For the coy role I cajoled to deflate

My wounds and doubts of late

In a benumbing prate,

That with each new show I would reiterate,

without the need to contemplate,

The silence that on death does ruminate.

I fear my ideas smear

The jarring wealth bred from the mere

Nothing, which shadows thoughts to gear

more nothing to preserve them dear;

But, like leeches’ living shear,

They leaven where their bleedings clear

The yearnings of a shrivelled tear,

Till the creases drain, and are left bare

of the care bred from the borrowed air,

with posthumous allures from the parched hair,

which flagged pleas, mockingly, sift them to spare.

TODAY

Thus I, have stood for my applause:

undeserved, yet meant, because

Absolving me gave them a cheerful pause.

Now welcomed is this sense, arose

From being inadequate. I took a pose

To breast the outcome at its worse,

knowing that it must always feel coarse

when consequences close their claws,

being that they cannot meet

the fragile floating of the fragrant feet,

whose permanent retreat

from present and finite a treat

it's my desire: for desires fleet

While they are conquered, found incomplete

To fill the sights that with delights compete,

Leaving bodies to forbade a lewd defeat

Where by possession passions end obsolete.

imagination finally

telling its dreams palpably;

that's the reality

that's worth to see.

Th' infinite capability

To satisfy a motion solely

by contemplation; the decree

of thoughts, their own referee,

anatomized on the organic spree

of bloated particles, that feelingly

Elude themselves when contacts free

Visions dearer than a matching glee.

but only the curbed opportunity,

with constant losses and more loots, maybe, 

Unravels to where pleasure can still be.

YESTERDAY

Now that th' expected day has gone

And that the next it has advanced is prone

To be, again, defaced by ripeness alone,

I must recall the past evént

With gratitude, for giving me to vent

Just these affectations I invent

To cover, with a dower insolent,

How worse it could have been and yet it didn't.

But, to whom shall I my thanks address?

The fibs and fasts that on me press

are products of a time, I confess,

I steal to cleave, with unresolved distress,

To graces that no praise can't stay -no less

than a heart can repossess

its pulse by rantings, be their excess

meek or emotionless;

The gods that the surfaces caress,

To spin by laughs and cries their dancing dress,

Pursue their play nevertheless,

If i their merit loud or none express.

Yet, decisions must, and make them happen,

strumpeting beliefs once they are shaken

By a glimpse to the alternatives not taken;

Thus a choice is torn between

Being deceitfully happy, or lean

on the frustrating spleen

Of indifference... Mine,

The second. I resign

From trying further to define

How truth and values might aline-

For cheers disguise a whine

That puns on our capacity divine

Of forgetting week confine

Our pinings to the granting to opine.