Faithfall (poem © 2008)

From: The Transcendence, La Salle University Press © 2008 

my lovely has gone
decayed into sonnets
epitaphs comparing loss
to embers of cigarettes
is she to join the ranks
of Lesbia, the Dark Lady, Beatrice, or Abla?
trite formulaicisms
as dusty as her grave
but what consolation is there in today’s brave new poetry?
deconstructed free verse
versing deconstructed freedom
but without the traditions
all just rootless, stillborn
and intimating the coming sunset

wandering the necropolic library
searching for a tome
amidst leatherbound tombs
do these poets ink-interred
crypting wisdoms of old
hide the secrets of resurrection within their fading words?
codices ripe with putrefaction
ink hemolysizing
how can they help me when they can’t even raise themselves from the dead?
vanities in carefully metered rhyme
all just iambic ambience
and prosody twists, turns
down the path to prosaicy
sub sole nihil novi est

an Arabic poem
and some Greek good news
parables preaching parabolas
of perdition and predestiny
paradise riding a winged dromedary
a kingdom through a needle’s eye
sons of God, or sons of Mary; the cross for one, or for all to carry?
nailed to wooden creeds
that seep sap too venomous to sip
hollow, am I faithful, or do I stand upon the edge my faithfall?
everyone hoping for a hereafter
that denies the here for the after
offered a hell of a heaven
my own answer I must win
a psalm for the twilight