Candor

[rowens]

Candor


The Earth works,
though the Moon's a calendar
ever changing
the day's same round. 

Hints of codes oblige
the armory,
and beasts in white lab coats
entwine their machinations. 

Who can blame Angels, 
being purely what they are,
or Fay, or even
the square, blustering 

Demons their fair trial
of a deal, living
as we must, then
returning to the ground.

"No," said the little fly
no one listened to 
without 
annoyance, 

"I don't just live a day,
despite what you 
think. And unlike you,
I don't understand the moon."

[Mark A Becker]

Hey rowens-
Interesting poem you've placed here in MISC. Seems like those pesky flies do know more than they've been letting on. I suspected as much.
Can always count on you to come up with something original.

Indeed- "who can blame angels" ?
-Mark

[Wjames]

Candor


The Earth works,
though the Moon's a calendar
ever changing
the day's same round.   This is an interesting opening, is 'calendar' the best word there (it might be)?

Hints of codes oblige
the armory,
and beasts in white lab coats
entwine their machinations.   makes me think nuclear

Who can blame Angels, 
being purely what they are, like the fly?
or Fay, or even
the square, blustering 

Demons their fair trial
of a deal, living
as we must, then
returning to the ground. humans

"No," said the little fly
no one listened to 
without 
annoyance, 

"I don't just live a day,
despite what you 
think. And unlike you,
I don't understand the moon."   

I enjoyed it, to me it sort of seems to say one human life is so small compared to infinity, and with our treachorous superiority, we threaten this infinity.

[TranquillityBase]

Candor


The Earth works,                         don't think you need that final comma
though the Moon's a calendar
ever changing
the day's same round. 

Hints of codes oblige
the armory,
and beasts in white lab coats
entwine their machinations. 

Who can blame Angels, 
being purely what they are,
or Fay, or even                           not sure how you are using "Fay" here; "the Fay" as in the fairies?
the square, blustering 

Demons their fair trial
of a deal, living                    what's the deal?
as we must, then
returning to the ground.

"No," said the little fly
no one listened to 
without 
annoyance, 

"I don't just live a day,
despite what you 
think. And unlike you,
I don't understand the moon."

I very much enjoyed this one, though it contains many mysteries.  I am drawn to it, like the fly.

TqB

[rowens]

I was walking around a house, and the line The Earth works though the Moon's a calendar. There was no comma, but with the rest of the sentence, and the nature of the line breaks, I decided a grammatical pause was due. The same occurred to me about the first fly stanza, but I excused that by chalking it up to the annoying sound of the fly.

Everything seems to change, though people go to work each day, and things both seem to change and stay the same. The Moon is an illusionary guide we set our time by. It too appearing to change.

All the while the threat of real change by war and new and more powerful weapons. And the beasts labelled and studied and classified, though remaining wild. Scientists, too.

Earth, Moon, Angels, Fay and Demons are capitalized. Oddly, beasts is not, despite their classifications. Nor is ground, fly or the moon in the fly's perspective.

People talk a lot about fair trials and fair deals. What do they mean?

---

I've always used the phrase, "the same dull round", thinking of it as a common folk expression, then, I remembered it was a line from a William Blake thing.

Living as I do, I'm accustomed to close quarters with flies, and they show up in my poems and usually speak. After writing this poem, I remembered this other Blake thing:

Little Fly
Thy summers play,
My thoughtless hand
Has brush'd away.

Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?

For I dance
And drink & sing:
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life
And strength & breath:
And the want
Of thought is death;

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.

---

I'm an advocate of mysteries. Even the Mystery that Blake rails against. Though I get his point.

[Lizzie]

"No," said the little fly
no one listened to 
without 
annoyance, 

"I don't just live a day,
despite what you 
think. And unlike you,
I don't understand the moon."

I love how the fly comes a bit out of nowhere, as flies do. This little guy has stories...

[rowens]

Once, when I was a kid, I was in a swimming pool, and a fly was walking around on my arm for an hour or so. I thought it liked me. Earlier this year, I learned that soggy flies find it hard to fly. Makes me consider the dog that I believed reincarnated from my grandma and the lightningbug, a former flame.