 2 Poems Jon Nakapalau /5 concepts to dwell upon for the rest of the year/ Walled-Up Street New 'Old' Deal Status-(quid pro)-quo 'Meritocromaniacs' 'Revolutionary Bourgeoisie Somnambulism' (RBS) Syndrome /Diamonds and Rice/ There once was a wealthy and powerful diamond merchant Who passed by a beggar every evening Without giving him a single copper After returning from the local tavern where he celebrated with his business associates. One night, stumbling drunk, the merchant tripped and a small pouch of diamonds Spilled onto the ground in front of the beggar The beggar came to his aid and did his best to gather the diamonds And put them back into the pouch. But his eyes were old and it was dark The merchant struck his head on a tree as he fell And was bleeding profusely from a gash on the back of his head The beggar went to the tavern and let the tavern keeper know what happened. The next morning the merchant awoke in the tavern The first thing he did was count the diamonds in his pouch He noticed that 7 were missing He summoned the tavern keeper. “Where are my 7 diamonds?” asked the merchant The tavern keeper was afraid of the merchant And knew that he had a temper For he always argued about his bill at the end of the evening. “I do not know…ask the beggar who brought you to my door last night.” “What beggar – you mean the old man at the corner?” “Yes…it was he who brought you here last night.” “Bring him to me.” Two strong servants of the tavern keeper Forced the beggar to come with them Even though the beggar had just been given a bowl of rice and was hungry The servants knocked over the bowl and kicked the rice into the dust. The merchant shouted at the beggar “Where are my diamonds!” The beggar answered “I do not know.” The beggar was arrested and put in jail His protestations of innocence were ignored Because the merchant testified that the beggar had waited behind the tree And struck him on the head. Soon after the beggar died in jail The warden was a friend of the merchant And the merchant had given instructions Not to give him food or water unless he confessed to taking the 7 diamonds. Later the merchant remembered That he had put the 7 diamonds aside in his desk For a preferred customer So, in fact, the 7 diamonds were never lost. Years flew by Yet the merchant never regretted What he had done To the beggar. When the merchant died He went to hell The beggar met him before he went back to heaven And this was his punishment. “You must chew these 7 diamonds into dust Before you receive One drop of water – one grain of rice”.  Bio: I have lived in California (SF Bay Area) all my life except for the two years I was stationed in Germany when I was in the US Army. I spent 30 years in the private sector working in different managerial positions - learned that the best policy is just to treat people the way you want to be treated - a simple lesson that simply is often ignored. My background is in social science and philosophy; but I am finding that the more you think you know the less you really do. I love reading, taking walks and trying new foods. I am taking the time to look at things from differing perspectives so as to stop from spinning off into the void. There was a time in my recent past when I started to look at my life - asking myself what was really important to me and how could try to live the best life I could. A series of painful events brought me back to poetry - and I finally decided to try to explore some of the feelings I was having through writing. I am glad that I was finally able to be 'true to myself' as I embark on this adventure. As of late I have been trying to slow down my time; trying to spend the time I have in a way that will allow me to connect with the people I care about. It is amazing to me how having a cup of coffee with an old friend can help you find your grounding as you spin into the next week. I have come to the conclusion that the most important thing we can do is to try to remain authentic in an increasingly inauthentic world. Poetry (for me) is a way to try to stay authentic even as society seems to be less and less interested in this - even as critical times collectively face us as we struggle with ideological uncertainty. Everyone of us has a unique voice that has just as much right to be heard as any other voice; but we also have to listen to each other as part of our authenticity. Please stop by and sign my guestbook if you get the chance! Thank you to everyone who reads my poems - your time is a gift - I will always try to be worthy of.
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