This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2014-09-23 10:16:45 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Trammeling Up the Consequence

                                                                                                                                                                           For JCH                                                                                                                                                           They voted no. I’m not a Scot,                                                                                                                                                            so what do I know from their “no”?                                                                                                                                                           But I do know, “no.” No? Yes.                                                                                                                                                           Lear gave us four: “No, no, no, no”                                                                                                                                                           with Cordelia in his arms. Christ                                                                                                                                                           said let it, or yea, be your response,                                                                                                                                                           ironically making Scots scot free with                                                                                                                                                            their Biblical answer. My little guy                                                                                                                                                            looks at me and says “no”                                                                                                                                                           warily, knowing I want a “yes.” My wife                                                                                                                                                           says “no,” with scorn to warily, and                                                                                                                                                           often. Is it raining? No.                                                                                                                                                           Or yes. Elementally. Opening us                                                                                                                                                            to the definitive branch of the yes/no                                                                                                                                                           question, what is past, or present . . . being.                                                                                                                                                            Are the Yankees winners this year? No.                                                                                                                                                            Did they win last year? No. Easy. But then there is                                                                                                                                                           tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,                                                                                                                                                            for Macbeth, other Scots, me and you.  Which                                                                                                                                                            reminds me of things to which neither “nay”                                                                                                                                                            nor “yea” is an answer: Scots, and the larger                                                                                                                                                           phylum which will now and again                                                                                                                                                           register madly on the laser gun                                                                                                                                                            that captures the speed of the hour,                                                                                                                                                           a past now present, to be answered                                                                                                                                                            to. Freedom? And the gun said, “no.”                                                                                                                                                            Which somewhat rankles me:                                                                                                                                                            I drive fast, and am American.       

Copyright © September 2014 Mark Steven Scheffer


This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Gustin On Date: 2014-09-29 09:50:09
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
A very interesting twist on no and yes,the very binary of human existence. Blending Christ and Macbeth to bring home your meaning even better


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