"God's dead"
the naysayers said
with their head in the sand
just look around at creation's
wonder
Printable View
"God's dead"
the naysayers said
with their head in the sand
just look around at creation's
wonder
Wonder's
An expression
Childhood never questions.
Adult repression cannot now
Guess how.
Guess how
the goddesses
messing and healing there
tease me with gentleness, torment
and care.
And care,
So we are told,
Is less than hope or faith,
But for me somehow, it never
Grows old.
Grows old
but cannot die,
at least not yet. That’s why
the rainbow left me wet: to dry,
forget.
forget
not Darby, Joan
they drank the summer wine
tho' love & devotion were etched
in time
In time,
So life reveals,
All of our wounds are healed.
But the cobbler cries that time wounds
All heels.
all heels
satan seeks smite
turning our light to night,
our love to hate, and our peace to
peril
Peril--
These straits are dire.
We're over a barrel.
Frying pan? Fire? To which shall we
Aspire?
aspire
lest ye expire
into a stagnant pool
of boorishness and slothfulness
desire
Desire
Is cupid's barb,
Who, barely garbed, inspires
To stupor chaste and marble saints
By feints.
By feints
we kept it hid
then we forgave. We did
release our fearful slave, got rid
of it.
Of it,
Of course, I've heard.
I've thought it, done it, but
I dare not speak the dire "F-word":
Free verse!
Free verse!
Is something worse?
Should I rehearse a rhyme
to curse the gods who tolerate
free verse?
Free verse?
Nay, mull and nurse:
Eschew prosaic mess!
Torture the meter till your poems
Confess.