Damn Israelites and their habit
of melting jewelry into idols
in the valley, while over their heads
a voice that burned bushes, hardened hearts
and spat frogs escalated to a shout
shaking mountains:
too close to the real, it was easier to kneel
to a made thing, safer than a wild god,
unknown, unpredictable; with no
guarantee of safe passage
away from he who forged worlds–
they could have answered, lips framing words
that, once winged, could kiss sunlight
or form hymns, or prayers
to a god who might have listened,
or thanks to the man bringing back
what was written, then broken,
thrown down in a snit and then never rewritten
on stone his first commandment
lost in translation:
Thou shalt have no other gods before joy.
I came down from the hilltop
Filled with inspiration and admonitions
Stones dissolved into sand
Inscriptions a faint imprint
On disassembled truth
Oh, David! I love it!
My word, you’ve ‘got it on you’ as my ma would say! ‘a voice that burned bushes, / hardened hearts / and spat frogs escalated …’ stunning writing Susan.
Polly–thanks! My own mother would have called it P&V.
Artfully (and somewhat religiously ) conceived and brilliantly executed! Kudos to the sharp-shooting, Buffalo-riding, woman of the eastern prairies and scorner of idolotors!Really great!>KB
Thanks, KB! This one was spat out as fast as those mythical frogs.
Ha! A catchy spark from siamese susan. Some state of mind the writer of this piece was in! Hehehehe!
Really ‘dancy’ lines there, amusing to the imagination, humorous.
Greetings from Camp Trent.
Hey, it’s great to see you! Camp Trent has some wonderful people in it. Glad you got into the spirit of this musing.
When All Hope Wanes
Some have twirl of bead,
some their golden calves,
some crown men to lead,
some their better-halves;
Adams have their Eves,
Christendom their cross,
Tartars trace tea leaves,
Shamans stumps and moss,
some look to King James
with high thees and thous;
yet, when all hope wanes,
none as good as cow
led as nose allows.
😉 E
Love it, Eric! The strength of practical things.
Loved your poem too, Susan. A real stone crusher… 😉
😉 why thank you!
Ehm, did you just call me a kind of (religious) ball breaker in the nicest way possible? If so, I LIKE it! If not, I’ll stay with the tablet image and say thanks!
Oh, I believe that Jesus crushed a few stones in his day too. Whether Pharisee, Sadducee or rich man, you see… Why can’t we? 😉
We should, we must!
I love how it turned out!
Thank you, Shrinks. Hey–do you have a name you would like me to use, or does “Shrinks” work? I had so much fun spitting this out!
Call me anything you like, darling! If we exchange email at any point, I will strive to be less anonymous 😉
I love the final running-on sentence – it has the perfect amount of intensity. So glad I found your blog!
Oh, me too! Your poetry is so full of energy and almost mythic beauty.
wow, thank you. yours is bold, transcendent, and even a little bit cheeky, which I absolutely adore.
Reading your dream piece/prose/poem now, and…wow…
awww, you are too nice, my subconscious totally threw me a bone for that one : )
Your subconscious needs to teach my subconscious how to do that. I have poem envy 😉
There was a gorgeous madness to that piece.
madness…that sounds so familiar… 😉
Oh, I am all for madness. We need more of the good kind.
Pingback: Golden Calves | Eric M. Vogt: Life-Writings
My madness seems to have both its dark and light sides…good with the bad and all that : )
Yes–nothing is ever completely one way or another.
Susan, I can always count on you to wake me up in the morning. Very good.
Thanks, Alice. I wanted to write an acrostic using my favorite line from TS Eliot, but this insisted on coming out instead. Kinda glad it did! I did still bury the quote in here.
You have such a mind and soul for weaving words. I’m amazed again.
Thanks, Alice.
Seems to me a whole lot of organised belief is built on devotion to false things that have little to do with spiritual guidance, and more to do with feeding the machine.
I walked away, along a different trail.
Wise choice, Nelle.
Oh Susan, this is just too brilliant. I mean just how do you do it?
Celestine, thank you! This came out of an attempt to do an acrostic from a TS Eliot poem, but insisted on coming out this way instead 😉