Poetry

Origin: First year KLBC assignment to turn a minor prophet into a poem. I distinctly remember Digger saying how much he liked good rhyming, so I didn’t do any rhyming… free verse for the win! It’s amazing what you find buried in “C:/My Documents” sometimes…

hear my servant

[1]

a love wasted?
purposed a choice, final
not without my own reasons
though they remain enshrouded
I am beyond you

it bleeds
rivulets flowing from my altar
it bleeds lines of options:
second best at best
not what I deserve, not what I commanded
profane delivery, meaningless offering
rejected.

you play the law-keeper
spotless to irises
while inside,
you are your own whore

and despite the flow of saliva caressing my face
(finding its origin in your mouth)
my name will be glorified, for it is great
(I’ll spit you out, false priest, false follower)

and yet you mock my wrath
laughing all the way to the grave you’ve been scraping up with bare hands

my name will be extolled

[2]

I will give you a reminder:
and I will speak it through my voice
and he will write it down

blessed curses; so shall you know
they fall on you
my condemnation lies squarely on your hands, red and dripping
taste them, bitter

the spiritually deaf spiritual leader

your predecessor stood
yet you fall always
blind blinder leading blinded blind;
blind guide, repent

truth closed ears – truth closed lips
you were such a travesty of representation,
corrupter, corrupter

once few, now many

faithless infidel
infidelity your charm bracelet
once again offering up your gross abominations
cut you off, sever

more, cry
shed your saline like a blanket
does it comfort you?
relief in your downpour?
I say no
you shall suffer the benefits of this distortion
torn my pattern, fool

what you saw as purposeless
and destroyed
I saw of utmost vitality
sever you

beautiful infidelity
burn beautiful,
for she was so much more

she was you

she deserved your everything

yet you mock, and I tire

[3]

once more a messenger

the day of your reckoning beckons you
approaching at break neck speeds
there is no run
there is no shelter
game over
game over, the fire is coming
(yet i will re-establish you)

split second alteration
binge and purge… and purge
you will be cleared
but for now entranced with your misplaced fears

I am static
solid – firmed

you turn
(curses, thief)
you shift
(thief, tenth hoarder)

spectacles of
apparent escape, seeming gain
one day you will watch them die and burn

remember this,
the black lines are drawn sand lines
cutting you from mine
radiant black lines of separation

[4]

inferno morning
shave your face this day
for this day you taste napalm, death
the sand in the tree has become shards of glass
and you have become nothing

however mine bound
taking submersive flight in me
smelling your remains, ashes

a love wasted?
enshrouded, revealed in time

he is coming

cosmic shift; return