The Hierophant

November 1, 2018 at 1:02 am Leave a comment

The Hierophant

We’ve waited hours
in this dusky, dusty place.
Anger and fear
are mixed in our breasts
as we wait on,
kneeling, heads bowed. (Perhaps
the blindness
is hardest to bear. I think
I’ve memorized
this cracked patch
of floor.)

Or perhaps
these hours
have been my life.
As I wait
for meaning.

I was going to do a cut-and=paste but instead I’ll refer you to the (free!) download of WordWeb. I have the pro version, well worth it and lifetime and that does include updates.

Politics, meanings, beliefs (real and feigned) and the compelling sway of power all blend to form a nominal truth that is exactly as true as George Wallace’s stance. Actually it (power) is the most addictive thing known. Oddly enough those who yield it by giving their belief somehow gain their own thrill.

Yes, if any of my classmates read this, that’s actually why. I had and have no reason to suppose I could withstand the addictive pull of power.

Entry filed under: Ancient Poetry. Tags: , .

Questions, Scars, and Scraps words

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