Hot Tea! is a collection of poems on a wide range of subjects.
Some are political commentaries, some are erotic, some are even funny.
The dominant theme, however, is one of meditation and insight into the
human spirit.
These poems have been published on the web for years and are visited
there by tens of thousands of readers a year, many of whom write me when
one poem or another really appeals to them. They have been assembled
into a book and published by Lulu press for those that prefer to read
poetry from a lovely book instead of a relatively cold computer screen.
The following is a poem exerpted from this collection. Enjoy!
The Age of Kings is Over
Passing down a busy street in a very modern city
You see a sight which cannot help but fill your heart with pity
A useless man surrounded with fake pomp and circumstance
A relic rite of elder age, of cruelty and romance.
"The age of kings is over, man," you want to go and say.
"The age of kings is over and your crown has passed away."
No longer does his naked sword defend his rule with fear.
No longer is his every word the law to vassal ear.
No longer does his petty whim cause innocent men to die.
No longer will his unchecked lust make innocent maids to cry.
"The age of kings is over, man," you want to go and say.
"The age of kings is over and your crown has passed away."
The sultan in his hareem with his power quite complete
Awakes one day discovering he's suddenly obsolete.
The rajah in his palace made of marble and of jewels
Must suddenly earn a living when he no longer rules.
"The age of kings is over, man," you want to go and say.
"The age of kings is over and your crown has passed away."
All queens must follow kings, and the prince to pauper turn
When their privileges crumble and erstwhile subjects learn:
There is no right to power, there is no right to rule,
And far from deserving worship, the king is jester fool.
"The age of kings is over, man," you want to go and say.
"The age of kings is over and your crown has passed away."
Not only kings, but titles too: duke and count and earl
All rank unearned and empty honor must vanish from the world
And leave behind a cleaner place where none to privilege born
Lord it over the rest of us with wealth, and land, and scorn.
"The age of kings is over, man," you want to go and say.
"The age of kings is over and your crown has passed away."
Presidents-for-life and tribal chiefs, dictators and the pope,
Tsars, emperors, even `Christ the king' all sliding down the slope
Of history to oblivion, to wind up chapter three
In a textbook studying passion, greed, and inhumanity.
"The age of kings is over, man," you want to go and say.
"The age of kings is over and your crown has passed away."
Now every heart that wakens, each eye that sees the light
Has equal chance (for good or ill) for honor earned and might.
Now every man and woman is free to seek a catholic goal:
To live their life as best they can as master of their soul.
"The age of kings is over, man," you want to go and say.
"The age of kings is over and your crown has passed away."
His eye is blear, his honor lost, he has no useful duty.
Adultery shames him, papers say, and his appetite is fruity.
Yet he resides in palaces, rich, in spite of all decay,
The quaint remains of feudal years, a time now passed away,
A kind of living dinosaur, a Shakespearean one-act play,
A tabloid treat, a boar's hind tit, a bill we ever pay.
"The age of kings is over, man," you want to go and say.
"The age of kings is over and your crown has passed away."
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