Marching Towards April

I am re-posting previous work during March.
Since 2014, I’ve published 30 original poems
for National Poetry Writing Month every April.

You can read more by clicking the NaPoWriMo widgets to the right ▶

♻ Unfortunate Juxtapositions ♻

Our jihad is their day of judgement
Your judgement is God’s retribution
Their threats are not empty
Our iniquity is not yet complete
It’s just alarmist nonsense
It is not actually happening yet . . .

Your data plan upgrade was his execution
My Jeremiad was her Magnificat
Their Canaan is our Babylonian exile
The Babylonian exile was a Manchurian candidate
All candidates are out of commission
Your Messianic return will be their Assyrian uprising
Their fortuitous coincidence is our unfortunate juxtaposition.

One man’s doom is another man’s heaven
Count the hours—don’t stop at eleven
It falls at the end of the sixtieth minute
No matter how the Godless try to spin it
Read the headlines—then get back to me
( you who read poetry blogs distractedly )

Check other NaPoWriMo blogs HERE

Go, go, you’re bit (by the Swiftian wit).

Last_Judgement._Jean_Cousin.

The Last Judgement by Jean Cousin (c. 1522–1595)

Quick post of some visionary wit from Jonathan Swift (1667 -1745), best known as the author of Gulliver’s Travels.

The Day of Judgement

With a whirl of thought oppressed,

I sunk from reverie to rest.

A horrid vision seized my head,

I saw the graves give up their dead!

Jove, armed with terrors, bursts the skies,

And thunder roars and lightning flies!

Amazed, confused, its fate unknown,

The world stands trembling at his throne!

While each pale sinner hangs his head,

Jove, nodding, shook the heavens, and said:

‘Offending race of human kind,

By nature, reason, learning, blind;

You who, through frailty, stepped aside;

And you who never fell—through pride:

You who in different sects have shammed,

And come to see each other damned;

(So some folks told you, but they knew

No more of Jove’s designs than you)

The world’s mad business now is o’er,

And I resent these pranks no more.

I to such blockheads set my wit!

I damn such fools!

—Go, go, you’re bit’