.
.
And All Seas Turned Black
What order next of man prevails,
Is there treachery in Gethsemane,
Does quinquennium of Ninevah
Hold full with ancient oils
Of brutal retributions?
Chronometer what might you say?
What hour now rings or cuckoo calls
This linear time might fade away,
The hands may come full circle
Of this Newton-wavelength phase!
The white skinned lords of force
By guile and blood in name of Christ
Have raped and hewn their mother
Till comforts are for shame
Inheritance of hemlock for a child.
Is Mabus within our midst
The third to follow emperor and tyrant
The last of all the anti-Christ,
Or shall apocalyptic horsemen ride
Diseases and foul weather?
Aye, my lords ye know not yet
Original sin of knowledge!
These pyramids to lose white marble
As your brains turn withered stone
In the rock of all ages past
Not this not that without respect
Ye creatures of the interface
The elemental chart alas is toys
For greedy fingers that might
Compound a whimpering of all fate.
Hopi-shamans spirit drummed
From insignificance a
That might tell the final days
One thousand years before
And all the seas turned black.
Bio:
Ivana Plucinski is emerging writer. Her origins are in Slovakia. She resides in Germany. Her poems appeared in e-zines, such as www.poeticmatrix.com, www.AllThingsGirl.com, www.poetrydances.com and others where she is exploring both physical and spiritual relationships with emphasis on nonlinearity. Although she has never been published, she is an active writer, currently she is working on her epic historical saga.
(author retains copyright)
.
And All Seas Turned Black
What order next of man prevails,
Is there treachery in Gethsemane,
Does quinquennium of Ninevah
Hold full with ancient oils
Of brutal retributions?
Chronometer what might you say?
What hour now rings or cuckoo calls
This linear time might fade away,
The hands may come full circle
Of this Newton-wavelength phase!
The white skinned lords of force
By guile and blood in name of Christ
Have raped and hewn their mother
Till comforts are for shame
Inheritance of hemlock for a child.
Is Mabus within our midst
The third to follow emperor and tyrant
The last of all the anti-Christ,
Or shall apocalyptic horsemen ride
Diseases and foul weather?
Aye, my lords ye know not yet
Original sin of knowledge!
These pyramids to lose white marble
As your brains turn withered stone
In the rock of all ages past
Not this not that without respect
Ye creatures of the interface
The elemental chart alas is toys
For greedy fingers that might
Compound a whimpering of all fate.
Hopi-shamans spirit drummed
From insignificance a
That might tell the final days
One thousand years before
And all the seas turned black.
Bio:
Ivana Plucinski is emerging writer. Her origins are in Slovakia. She resides in Germany. Her poems appeared in e-zines, such as www.poeticmatrix.com, www.AllThingsGirl.com, www.poetrydances.com and others where she is exploring both physical and spiritual relationships with emphasis on nonlinearity. Although she has never been published, she is an active writer, currently she is working on her epic historical saga.
(author retains copyright)
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