The Conference Poem by Robert Rittel

Another meeting for the important elected procedure,
attainment and its necessity for the believer.
Those trivial suggestions by all means to please,
to the sympathy of the dutiful ear, like the chill of a morning breeze.
Controlling manipulation changing direction,
arty serenade with confusing conception.
Smitten confessions as tangible bribe,
like tinkles ofrepeated mono chords that have something to hide.
Cannot change the fallible structure regardless its loss,
the hammered maze charmingly with strokes of fate to toss.
So many ‘ifs' that must do thunder,
sparking the ideal of burden to take under.
Questioning liberation with more questions chiming the gasp and moan,
while superior compassion providing the free buffet as tone.
The imprisoned alternative cries in many hearts,
the orator voice still conducting his inspiring sacrificing arts.
Those marches of the all experienced brave,
the nerving monotone at the edge, by the martyrs cave.
The caffeinated beverage becomes the inner hug with little release,
leaving conceptions so pale in forethought to please.
Countless compartments of wasted attentions looking for the door,
when the same same mounts to the erected surprise on this floor.
The hypocritical day with dreams to sell,
while the conscious metaphor rings another bell.
Are those wisdom pearls from life's ocean the crown?
or is the slave of the never meeting ends holding down.
O convenient comfort and loss of love thereby as melody,
the ends of being and ideal grace the ultimate remedy.
The living game of chess, where figures cannot be at same place,
the protection of the king are the square schemes of the trace.