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I - a Disruption

Someone wrote for praise today
Water on my molding clay
You like the hard subject, a gift
Of wind without a lift
                  For I would think
                  My world so transparent in words
                  Would explain my link
                  My little flight with birds

For things of the poet's heart
Are not the tangibles of our life
Though by tangibles we break apart
And enter vile vortex of strife
                 I care for every forest razed
                 Every broken wing of child
                 Every woman raped, battered, daze
                 Every soldier wounded in the fight

I am the echo of art, the points
Of negotiation with powerlessness
The sacrifice that love appoints
I disrupt coherence of selfishness
                 And will confront kings and citadels
                 A vulture at the rotten heart
                 A dog to bark and bite at infidels
                 I am the conscience in the art.

This is my gift, my task, my delight
To be a candle in starless windy night
To tell the disillusioned you are right
To take to hell the gospel's fight
                 And proclaim God's kingdom come
                 So love is not an easy chair for me 
                 Not noble dreams of figment freedom
                 I am its better memory.

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Slight Buckling

Date: 12/7/2009 8:36:00 AM

I really enjoyed the harmonics of this one. It almost seems like the delicate and yet whimsical structure is in dire contrast with the subjects being discussed. Not sure if that was the intent, but I love the chiaroscuro effect this writing evokes. Thank you for the kind comments. I must say, you have an impressive catalogue of writing. I've been working my way through and I think we share same the interest in intense metaphors.