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Angels Without Wings

entry picture

 

Arabic spoken in Al-andalus

after 400 years of the inquisition.

Muslim houses in Bosnian villages

with crosses on display

despite the threat of apostacy.

 

"And slay them wherever ye find them."

 

morning fresh as the one –

the Buddha knew –

the flowers of the valley

the grasses of the plain

the body, a holy place again

eyes shine with the unbidden light of heaven

and nothing, nothing shall remain.

The future aligned with heavenly ways,

And on inauspicious days,

with no quarter offered, or taken,

Riot, lobby, accuse, condemn,

the 'faithful' seek the blood of men.

shake off these shades of numerology 

live without angels

die as men.....

◄ Iceflower

Incident in late November ►

Comments

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Taylor Crowshaw

Mon 3rd Sep 2018 07:29

What an atmospheric poem with a mystical quality..loved it thank you..

Big Sal

Mon 3rd Sep 2018 04:29

Incredibly well-written and excellent piece John. The painting/picture accompanying this also reminds me of a board game of tremendous proportions called 'Admiral's Order', same style and all. Very well done.

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