Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Sunday, January 07, 2018

Fertile Crescent Blues

the priest went mad, as mad as hell
he turned a crimson tide
fingers arched and teeth revealed
he would not let us hide

the pastor took to trembling
and spitting on the floor
he locked the church against the dark
and many oaths were sworn

the rabbi and the shaman
the body of the lamb
the minister said there was no cure
for god, or for goddamn

what happened? well, it's good you ask
you have a right to know
how monsters reign in the terrain
above and down below

This: every cell that multiplies
divides itself to do
the exponential numbering
making many from a few

each birth is like a miracle
each twin an instant ghost
what's left behind is lost in time
in search of one more host

but ghosts cannot occupy
the form without the function
they jingle/jangle artlessly
and pass up every junction

what is left for all of those
who presume a truer plot?
who shout of deeper insights
of what is right and what is not?

the perch of heaven oh, so close
your faith is just the trick
to make you see the carrots
that hang down from all the sticks

but time will take you by the hand
illusion, yes, but strong
the smile that helps you face the world
will one day just be gone

and when the stage is empty
after prophets all depart
they sweep up all the dusty bits
and proclaim a fallen art

from this dust the minister
the rabbi and the priest
blame the moon for rising
when the sun shines not the least

***












2 Comments:

At 6:54 PM, Blogger Oscar said...

Fantastic stuff. 👏

 
At 11:16 PM, Blogger mjs said...

Thank you, kind sir!

 

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