Clergy Tree



All of the older ones
arrive at the primordial clay.
Re-imagining had begun,
so they let the game be played.

First, they will make a God,
the God of obedience.
Yet won't spare the rod
as if it were expedient

The all father served them well
doing all that he is told.
So make for him a southern bell,
knowledge that can't be sold.

The first son knowledge will have,
is a little skeleton boy.
So has death made her glad
or is it the death of her joy

"Knowledge you are far too bold!"
screams the all father in rage.
"You must do as you are told!"
he rips off her arms in a rampage.

The older ones were scared of death.
The first feeling they had felt.
Not sure if they were cursed or blessed
they offered knowledge no more help

They changed her name to wisdom
for she now seemed to know her place.
She was afraid of the symptom,
now pregnant from her rape.

The second son of wisdom
was a green boy they named hope.
Who was born without a kingdom,
the god of rock and roll.

The all father hated hope
because the child was not his.
And as death could not cope
he told the child “do as I bid!”

Death reached in to hope’s chest.
Pulling out what should be his heart.
Hope was unimpressed.
Now he’s a ghost with a scar.

Death was holding an eyeball
and his hand was now alive.
He felt the skin begin to crawl
for part of death had died.

The unholy ghost of hope
took his heart from his brother's hand.
His inner eye clung as a rope,
for hope was now a man

Death now would have inner peace
and hope would carry chaos.
Wisdom had a bit of each
but felt that all was lost.

So chaos said to his father
“I command you serve yourself!”
Baptized and all, without water,
Treachery was sent to hell.

On the day that hope was born
the tree of life began to grow.
When hope became chaos, it stormed
good and evil on what we know.

Wisdom now has her children.
And the old ones have their fear.
I wish that she was with them
hoping death was always near

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Wayward Bound Or: a warped piano accompanying an epic f@%king poem. (Cluster one, of five.)

On the potential distance of other worlds. (revision)