I was convinced I’d forgotten to send in my poem yesterday, but tuning into Paul’s blog to post the link anyway, I see that it’s there. I must be losing it. That, or there’s something funny going on.
The image I chose was The Angel of Destruction by Marcel Herms.
Angel of destruction
It’s funny how the people with the wings
and halos look so like the ones with black
masks and scimitars, their banners, one in gold
the other black, the same imperious messages—
Do, be, do not, have not, say not, speak not,
kill, save, listen, mute and deaf to all else,
for we alone have the answer, we alone the
words in the right order, the right mouths.
Empty your minds of all impious thoughts,
they say, for your thoughts are not worth
a gnat’s fart when it comes to the great
au-delà. Bow down and take your medicine,
says the Great Panjandrum in the sky, and
the angels of destruction grin in their white-
winged nighties and golden-bannered haloes,
holding out their hands in fraternity to the
butchers, hatchet-faced and grim—reapers.