The “Elgin Marbles”
The “Elgin Marbles” ... You dare call them that!
... as if your larceny could be justified
by such a vile name! It just reeks of scat,
a moniker no Grecian can abide!
“Lord” Elgin, axing stones, you hauled them off,
with Ottoman connivance in your grasp,
your crime a mortal sin at which we scoff,
your pride of possession worthy of an asp!
By shaming Athen’s pride, the Parthenon,
your imperial gall’s outstripped your sins,
your every game you play another con,
another ploy in sick political spins.
The British Museum claims, “It’s for the best!”
and touts your barefaced lies as if in jest.
April 20 2019
senryu – my wee kitty prays = mon chaton prie
my wee kitty prays,
you know not what you do –
only humans sin
mon chaton prie,
tu ne sais pas ce que tu fais –
pécher, c’est humain
in commemoration of the savage attack on a Muslim mosque
in Quebec City, Sunday, January 29, 2017
3 So watch yourselves. “If your brother or sister sins against you,
rebuke them; and if they repent, forgive them.
4 Even if they sin against you seven times in a day, and seven times
come back to you saying ‘I repent,’ you must forgive them.”
Luke 17: 3-4
Is humankind so kind or so unkind
we have embraced and have abandoned love
we’ harmonized ... or despotize to blind
ourselves to pitying the mourning dove? —
or mob ourselves with xenophobic crime? —
and chase our dreams but chase them all away? —
We pillorize our neighbours half the time,
while terrorizing those for whom we pray.
Come on! What, come again? Can you explain
why our religion has to reign supreme,
while theirs and yours must suffer mindless pain
to kill our worlds that no one can redeem.
Excuse me, God... Hey, do You give a damn
as we expose our souls to another scam?
January 30, 2017
The Stone is Cast
The Stone is Cast
So since they kept on and on nagging him, he answered them, and said,
“Let the one among you who is sinless be the first to cast a stone at her.”
As stones are cast against the inner walls,
the lessee of the castle wracks his brains,
while wicked winter rails against its halls
and shakes the filings off his dungeon’s chains
where he’s incarcerated serfs at whim,
because they’d dared defy his iron will:
his fingers drew the rusty bolt on him
as well as them, and held him, freezing, still,
until he fled that vile, ensanguined room,
their blasted thane — unconscious of his sin,
though conscious of what cold impending doom
was, as winter is, to do him in.
Oh when it does, its frozen blast shall blind
him to the shattered mortar of his mind.
January 3, 2017