Thursday, March 27, 2014

Poem: The Real

Kenny Cole, in his Parabellum project for UMMA (see previous blog post), used several of my poems, two of which have never before been published. One of those poems is below. The theme is in the spirit of Cole's anti-war, anti-conformity message, heartily expressed through provocative art.

To see all the poems in Parabellum, go here:

http://kennycole.com/p-/the-poetry-of-parabellum


Fly Well In the Dark,

Owl

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The Real

it hurt it hurt it hurt
the lack of heaven
in the slow dance of the sky.

the blurbs fairytales peddled and
politicians proclaimed,
and an entire culture lapped up and thought,

never

even entered the outer
perimeter of Truth,
or bore witness to the manufactured evil
in the pits between its spires.

if there was a god
who didn’t on the chains of souls fascinate,
she was chastised, marginal,

a swift flimsy icon
saddled with an impossible task:

to make the Good strong
and nurture trust
by sharing her breasts of bread.

real gods had knives--in their mean tongues,
in the cut precision
of the fat on their diamonds.

they slashed without law,
gutting the quests of the young,
swilling the scarlet of war.

the coinage and smear
of beauty and city spoke to the truth:
violence was the real Jesus.


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