Rudis

The last foe falls in endless game
Victory lifts the hopeless struggle
And you find it all feels the same

Step forward and claim your prize
Oak branch twisted to mock blade
Set with feast for prying eyes
A mighty boast of higher grade

You fought for survival
Beneath cruel master’s leash
Now find your revival,
Or die within your niche

The flames were to burn
But just so they were to shape
To see the colors you could earn
What we might make of hopeless ape

Fighter cut from metal and stone
Forged with sand, tempered in dirt
Became a weapon they couldn’t own;
A person they could not hurt

Absolute victory stands before you now
The promise of peace, it was a lie
You will stand but not take your bow
Though it was not here, you will yet die

What we’ve made, a champion of the sand
A warrior stands removed from his plight
Things fall in place just as planned
You’ve gained freedom to choose your fight

You knew your struggle but not your stakes
The symbol of freedom is oaken sword
Wood for it to bend before it breaks
Blade because peace is not your reward

You will pay for victory with your life
Condemned to continue on the sand
In freedom you will yet choose strife
Hilt will once again find your hand

Join the battle for those yet in chain
Find a way to help cast their weight
For they are those that feel your pain.
For they are those that share your fate.

A symbol earned by knowing its name
show your rudis to all who’ll see
Only then could they know your claim
That we all might be set free

Artist

You are an artist

Maybe you haven’t figured out how?
What marble will you cut to form?
Start with whatever you can allow
So long as it breaks you from norm

Through your expression
You’ll find a new view
A lasting impression
Of the real you

Me, I’m a poet
The lost son of a storyteller
And a song
I try to make words dance
While I sing along

I learned that from stories
They tend to hit me like trains
Yet I just end up wondering
Where they’re going
And from where they came

Those thoughts drove me to write
To pick up the immortal pen
And move to banish from sight
The ignorance of myself then

We must all find what moves us
To give our voices something to say
Really that’s what makes it art
Whether it’s in sound or clay

We are artists

We protest with our creation
We show them our plight
Make known our indignation
And carry out our fight

We show beauty with our craft
We Highlight the curves of sky
Spreading light with each draft
To make the world less dry

We show heroes in our work
We inspire some valor
When the creatures that lurk
Expect us to cower

You are an artist
Don’t tell yourself you’re not
At least when you go down
You’ll know you fought

Defiance

The natural order is our jail.
Stuck somewhere in time and space
On a lowly forward monorail;
Just caught up in another race

To hear the cry of a soul
A thousand years after conception
Is to learn we have a tool
To reach beyond our perception

To separate ourselves from cattle
We make music from our brays
The stage of our greatest battle
Is the same as our grandest plays

Creating is our weapon
It’s how we win the fight
How we reach passed heaven
And avoid that good night

Art is our grand defiance
Not against man but fate
Without we sit in compliance
Of our inevitable state

Show the future your reflection,
So far away they may learn
That we swore rejection
Of fate trapped in urn

Write down and savor
Some tales of great valor
To make a world braver
In the face of great power

Send out your lore!
Pass down your pain!
They’ll hear your roar
Long after you’re slain

In defiance of time
Share with the rest
Your love of rhyme
Your worst and best

Be proud of your revolt
In a way it’s all you got
It’s the only record they’ll consult
Showing how hard you fought

For those yet blinded by cage
Do you yet hold rebellion?
Have you quelled your mortal rage?
When will it finally be enough?
Do you hate the songs of the morning birds
Because they wake you up?