Like Mor-al-i-ty

Now here I am, weary, and in those inflamed winds
I must launch my boat.
Michelangelo Buonarroti

Like mor-al-i-ty,
the four lakes I canoed
in the Nova Scotia backwoods
came as a surprise!

One entered one to another
through a narrow channel.

Rejecting the ponderous metal canoes
for a small, traditional canoe of bark,
original to the north country,
I started my journey just before sunrise.

Mist rose silently over the lakes
and cool air brushed my face;
I was alone in an unfamiliar wilderness,
the beating of my heart was the only oracle.

It was so quiet on that first lake
that not even a bird broke the stillness
with its morning songs.

The first sound I heard
was the soft breaking of water
from the paddle.

Is Anyone Wiser Than Socrates?

"Is anyone wiser than Socrates?" asked Chairephon.
Socrates was not happy with the answer
Made by the oracle at Delphi.
In fact, Socrates was not pleased,
The oracle had lied,
Saying, "No one was wiser than Socrates."

In San Francisco Did Adrogynous Danne (a fragment)

In San Francisco did Adrogynous Danne
A stately pleasure dome decree:
Where Spermatozoa, the sacred river, ran
Through female caverns measureless to man
Down to a sinless sea.
So twice twenty miles of fertilized ground
With walls and lips were girdled round:
And here were gardens bright with sensuous rills,
Where blossomed many a sex-scented bearing tree;
And here were cultic-forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.