“Nigger”, we snigger; “Jew”, we sneeze;
hate is borne on a gentle breeze;
then swastikas crawl and blister our walls;
then cataracts shatter our bright windowpanes;
and seizures rupture our delicate streets
with nausea, bleeding, fire and pain.
“I lay my wriggling flames in vengeance;
my sticky nits are grown-up’s lies;
my bubos are bibles of hail and darkness;
through death and division, I multiply”.
But
love is
our natural
meme of immunity;
love soothes, coagulates and heals;
fixes the shattered spine of our apathy;
love now; feel love now; feel.
“My hissing cynics’ll sell you snake-oil;
my klonvocating goose-steppers;
my eye-swapping quacksalvers
and flag-flapping land-grabbers
with love speeches sell leeches
and desperate cures;
Abramelins of Hamelin
with squeaks and drums of war
who’ll march your children
to the river ”.
But love is a genuine cure
love is the real Sangreal;
come with us now through the perilous chapel;
we’re particles of Parsifal;
we’re precious cells in Purusha’s hand;
or the spinning wheel in his pineal gland;
Pan-gu’s tangled ch’i channeling wires
or the semen of Atum or the atoms of Gaia,
twigs of Yggdrasil or Sephirot;
that hate makes ill; uproots and rots.
Comments
insertponceyfre... | January 8, 2011 - 22:42
some fantastic lines in this poem well-wisher
well-wisher | January 8, 2011 - 23:14
Thanks, insert. I'm very much interested in alot of ancient mythology from different cultures and I like to try and use it in my poetry. I hope people don't mind me putting so many references in my poetry but if you read many of the modernist poets like Ezra Pound, Hilda Doolittle or TS Eliot, their poems are bursting at the seams with literary references. I quite like modernism but see my poems as being quite
post- "The Wasteland", looking forward to a brighter future rather than dwelling upon the greyness of the present.