A banjo is clamorous:
it is simple, & knows nothing.
Banjos make a mock at sin,
but among the righteous there is favor.
It is sport to a banjo to do mischief,
but a man of understanding has wisdom.
He that begets a banjo does so to his sorrow,
& the father of a banjo has no joy.
He that troubles his own house shall inherit the wind,
& the banjo shall be servant to the wise of heart.
As snow in summer & as rain in harvest,
so honor & a banjo don’t mix.
A dream comes from a crowd of troubles
& a banjo’s melody comes from a crowd of notes.
For as the crackling of thorns under a pot,
so is the music of the banjo.
A banjo’s strings enter into contention
& its head invites a beating.
A stone is heavy, a sandbag strains your arms,
but a banjo’s wrath is heavier than them both.
It is better to hear the rebuke of the wise
than for a man to hear the music of banjos.
Go from the presence of a banjo
when you perceive not the notes of knowledge in it.
As a dog returns to his vomit,
so a banjo player returns to his banjo.
Forsake the banjo & live,
& go in the way of understanding.
Dave Bonta (bio) crowd-sources his problems by following his gut, which he shares with 100 trillion of his closest microbial friends — a close-knit, symbiotic community comprising several thousand species of bacteria, fungi, and protozoa. In a similarly collaborative fashion, all of Dave’s writing is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License. For attribution in printed material, his name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact him for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).