deepundergroundpoetry.com
God’s Arrow
But God will shoot at them with an arrow;
Suddenly they will be wounded. - Psalm 64
I am thirty this July.
Some thing inside me flattens out
and scents the humours as they churn
just like a dryer sheet.
I’m not, nor will I ever be, fully sane
and sound. But I can greet
the Furies like a friend
who will not bear his throat
to harridans, at least.
I try to say what Kings would at a feast.
That on the hill the heathen sits
and will arrive with sword and bow,
but just like you he eats and shits,
and will be felled by God’s arrow.
Suddenly they will be wounded. - Psalm 64
I am thirty this July.
Some thing inside me flattens out
and scents the humours as they churn
just like a dryer sheet.
I’m not, nor will I ever be, fully sane
and sound. But I can greet
the Furies like a friend
who will not bear his throat
to harridans, at least.
I try to say what Kings would at a feast.
That on the hill the heathen sits
and will arrive with sword and bow,
but just like you he eats and shits,
and will be felled by God’s arrow.
Published 2nd Jan 2021
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likes 6
reading list entries 3
comments 12
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The author encourages honest critique.
2nd Jan 2021 6:37pm
At first I thought, scents? Does he mean sense? I had to read it twice trying to make sense ( no pun intended ) of it, then simply moved on and read the next line ( DOH! ). That was brilliant and taught me a lesson to just move on through then return with questions! LOL!
I love this. And it is so true. Live your own life ( defend only when you must ), and allow the Universe to take care of the rest.
I love this. And it is so true. Live your own life ( defend only when you must ), and allow the Universe to take care of the rest.
2nd Jan 2021 6:39pm
I wish I had some profound poetic story behind that dryer sheet simile, but in truth I’d just watched this news item:
https://youtu.be/4n0Zr3taACA
https://youtu.be/4n0Zr3taACA
2nd Jan 2021 6:43pm
Milestones are invitations to pause and examine by the perspective we are granted in 6 dimensions, that of relativity. I love how you mellifluously weave your life journey into the everything observed and felt, the brutal and mad shadows of history, the somehow tenderness of our infinite fragility. Everything is beautiful because we are doomed, a dinner eaten under the sword of damocles perhaps bitter or sweeter, depending on one's point of view. Beautifully struck chords here. far more eloquent than the jazz I played to commemorate my 40th.
2nd Jan 2021 10:35pm
3rd Jan 2021 00:38am
My sister is always saying that my regular talking is poetry lol ty 💖🙏🏻
3rd Jan 2021 5:59am
"Something inside me flattens out
And scents the humours as the churn"
The whole poem is so good but I always want to tell people the words that hit me between the eyes. I yearn (and I don't use that word often) to assimilate those existential, visceral moments. To tame them with language. To me these two lines are masterful.
And scents the humours as the churn"
The whole poem is so good but I always want to tell people the words that hit me between the eyes. I yearn (and I don't use that word often) to assimilate those existential, visceral moments. To tame them with language. To me these two lines are masterful.
3rd Jan 2021 11:55am
3rd Jan 2021 7:55pm
"I try to say what Kings would at a feast.
That on the hill the heathen sits"
Though time and space may deceive, there a fair few freaks for the feast who would wish you well and raise a glass of *redacted* to toast your thirtieth.
That on the hill the heathen sits"
Though time and space may deceive, there a fair few freaks for the feast who would wish you well and raise a glass of *redacted* to toast your thirtieth.
3rd Jan 2021 7:59pm
So long as it was “mead” that was redacted, the King is not offended! x
4th Jan 2021 9:48pm
Lets just say that it may have the milky colour of mead, and be a man-made product...
6th Jan 2021 1:17am
