Posted on 07/09/2002 12:47:21 AM PDT by Sabertooth
Mortal Pestle
The sweating palms of parched and idol lands
Are dropping dates in living dead oases...
Obituaries, nameless as the sands...
The agar augurs ill… of grave embraces...
The headwaters of Eden flow through wastes,
Beneath whose ruined remnants of our dawning,
And under palaces of tyrant tastes,
A pestilence is nursed… and plagues are spawning.
For yawning like the ancient, leprous skull,
That swallows all the kin of those first spouses
Into its void, for better or for null--
The wakened pox descends on sleeping houses.
A mortal pestle grinds tomorrow's fate,
As sorrows issue from the Ishtar Gate.
Leni
Freedom Is Worth Fighting For !!
Molon Labe !!
Excellent. I think Sodam Insane isn't sleeping well these days.
Definitely your best, of what I've read anyway. This was great.
This poem creates a picture of Babylon and germ warfare with Iraq in the near future. I like the prose which deals in the style of subtle realism in harmony with what I see as today's theme, which is and was death and destruction by the Middle East and in particular Saddam.
. . 
I agree with Victoria...really, I got this one!
Still working on the haunting and beautiful Bird Calls. Is the OWL the "blind" remnant soon to have the veil lifted upon Christ's return? Also references to the "pangs" of the heavenly pregnant Queen (Mary?) in Revelations, Satan waiting to steal the baby (Christ?), before the war in heaven between Satan's forces of darkness and the good angels, and before Christ's return?
Ping for further lessons in humility. (^:
Thanks for taking the time to read it so thoughtfully.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.