Atrocity layers upon atrocity, with mounting venom
Bounded no more by law of any sort,
Courts of reason, moral thought,
Dusty philosophies of what is right and what is wrong,
Each pole a righteous arrow pointing down,
Framing the other as the villain.
God named himself vengeful,
He owned his petty anger,
Impotent in the face of his own
Jealousy. Are we made so much in his image,
Kindled to vicious flame by another mind?
Loving only our reflected selves?
Man’s inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn.
Nights flash bright with a thousand descending suns,
Ordered to ground by mournful men,
Pall bearers at their mother’s funerals,
Questing crusaders of their storied worlds,
Righteous. Brave. Afraid.
Send forth the men, instead, who softly hold
Two torches. Who, when children cry amidst the rubble,
Unhitch their tether from the post,
Vilify the act but not the actor,
Weather the gusting push of their
Xenophobic tendencies and speak instead to
You, and me, as if we are the same,
Zealous only in their steadfast love.
Authors note: Today I did not feel like making light, and lightness seems sometimes shadowed out. I am afraid, and I am tired, and I know that our children deserve peace, now and always, and that now and always, we burn the world up around them.
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His Haibun
He does not like poetry; I write it anyway and do not tell him. It's true his face is not a poet's face. It is round and open, youthful; too apt to be compared to the sun. His nose is neat. It is impossible to imagine him smoking a cigarette, terse, full of cheekbones and tension. His warmth burns my fingertips. I am here for his fascinating body, the haphazard freckles I touch one by one; he is here for my eyes, just my eyes. A sunbeam sneaks through the curtains and pierces us both, sizzling the spices of his skin. I inhale and wrap myself in him. He kisses my eyes.
By TheSpinstress3 days ago in Poets
Comments (17)
Very well-wrought! I have long considered this one idea about separating the act from the actor, but have found that personalities are as unique as snowflakes or fingerprints, and systems are completely inept to account for that. This problem is exacerbated by scale, which is why collectivist societies always hold and grow the seeds of their own doom, and why individualist societies beyond a small scale just devolve into such collectivist societies. Sometimes, the actor is the act and the act the actor. There are genuinely bad actors in this world the natures of whom cannot be combatted by love and good intentions alone. Discernment is needed, and sorely lacking. I think about it a lot. As a philosopher, I consider these discomfitting thoughts a sacred duty, so please forgive my screed! I genuinely treasured every line here! Again, well-wrought!
This was a stirring and powerful read, and your words flow so well together.
Wow! Powerful words.❤️
POWERFUL
Vivid and enticing words.
Great writing! Powerful imagery, deeply felt. I elected not to enter this contest because I could not imagine creating anything other than a trite result. You proved me wrong. Although the Isaiah 2:4 quote in your title is the more well known, Joel 3:10 ironically changes it to beating plowshares into swords.
Yikes! Fire and brimstone is coming off the screen! Very powerful!
fntastic!!! Love it!!!💕
Let it be so. Let us be zealous in love.
This was so dark, poignant and emotional! It hit me so hard because it's the ultimate truth!
Oh boy, this one was hard to read, but so good, my favorite entry so far. It sort of made me think of that song by the Cranberries, “Zombie”? Anyway, it hit me right in the feels, thanks for sharing Hannah
This hit pretty hard. Insert a white poppy here ❤️
Your author's note made me sad because it is true and I don't know how to stop it or why it happens. Or maybe I do know why it happens and that makes me sad. Let's be torchbearers.
I was just thinking along the same line today, why are there more wars instead of less. We are burning the future of our children. But oh Lordy, have you not just told us here in this poem. Wake up world, see and open your eyes, this says. Beautiful.
This is is next-level, Hannah! A powerful statement and plea, created with striking metaphors and blatant truths. Brilliant! The fact that it fits effortlessly into the abecedarian form as it it wasn't intentional makes it a winner in my book.
Searing, and ethically pristine.
damn...just damn oh damn...lol. Lordy, you wrote the absolute fuck out of this Abecedarian. I welcome the dark...sometimes...we just need to address it...to call it out. and what you've eloquently, but nonetheless, passionately and poetically, addressed in this lyrical masterpiece is important, timely and I smell another place in the winner's circle, Hannah. Well bloody done. Also...well done on your forthcoming Top Story too.