General Poetry posted January 7, 2017


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potlatch abstraction 110 words

Clouds of arrows, floods of gore

by LIJ Red

The ebb and flow of human pain
is like a storm without the rain
as pagan gods through clouds will ride
and life and peace be thus denied.

Beware the priestly one who boasts
his God to be the Lord of Hosts
whose hammer thunders in the sky
who raves "The infidel must die!"

The ancient fearful gods of war
green fields of plenty all abhor
an armored warrior is their form
their charger is a raging storm.

He has no chance, the peaceful man
but run and hide and watch and plan.
A wind from Hell itself will roar
when hate and greed give birth to war.


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© Copyright 2017. LIJ Red All rights reserved.
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