Biblical Verse

The Song of Solomon, Chapter 4

Some Hebrew Bible poems
Are not too bad.
After all, they are
The words of god
(Reported by stenographers).

But some are plain grotesque.

If I were teaching poetry,
I’d have my students read
The Song of Solomon’s
Fourth chapter,
And cherish
The growls, grins, laughs
Its similes create.

“Behold, you are beautiful, my love.”

Not a bad beginning.

But then comes
The flood—
Divinely wrought similes:
“Your eyes are doves”
“Your hair is like a flock of goats, moving down the slopes of Gilead”
“Your teeth are like” (wait for it)
“a flock of shorn ewes that have come up from the washing, all of which bear twins, and not one of them is bereaved.”

Yahweh, please—
Teeth like shorn ewes,
Each followed by twin lambs
Yearning for a teat?
When my beloved smiles,
I bask in the effulgence
Of shorn postpartum ewes?

Then, a torrent,
Bemused as a mountain waterfall.

“Your lips are like a scarlet thread,”
“Your cheeks are like halves of a pomegranate,”
“Your neck is like a tower of David, built for an arsenal
Whereon hang a thousand bucklers,
All of them shields of warriors.”
Mama mia! That is one prodigious neck!

But the best
Worst simile
Embedded in the long
And varied history of poetry,
Remains: our beloved’s breasts—
“like two fawns,
twins of a gazelle,
that feed among the lilies.”

Got it? Reclining there,
The most beautiful woman
In the Bible:
Doves for eyes,
Goat hair,
Sheered sheep teeth,
Thread lips,
Pomegranate cheeks,
Arsenal tower neck,
With hungry baby gazelles
For breasts.

We must,
I suppose,
Gratefully
Thank god,
Or its stenographer,
For not imagining
All the bulk
Of that ancient book
In verse.
(6/29/12)

Posted in Beauty, Lust, Poetry (What is it?), Religion, Words

The DSM—Fifth Edition

The Diagnostic and Statistical
Manual of Mental Disorder lists
Over three hundred (often mystical)
Depictions of warped behavior—brain twists.

But what, I wonder, does DISORDER mean?
You’d think those rapt, wise men should first agree
(With some precision), on a crisp and clean
Depiction of what ORDER just must be.

When ancients heard the voice of god, they looked,
Listened, and acted—with no “ifs” or “buts.”
They, thus, became enshrined in holy books.
Today they’d grace the DSM—plain nuts.

Some seven billion folks inhabit Earth
Who cower, bow before invented hordes—
Those gods and goddesses of doubtful birth—
And pray for peace while launching holy wars.

Eight Shinto gods and Buddha disagree—
Each Hindu god grows countless avatars—
Yahweh, Allah, or one true god who’s three—
How can we dress our minds in such strange garb?

We’ve walked the moon, examined planet Mars
And new technologies have honed us keen—
Yet holy men don costumes so bizarre
They make each day a cosmic Halloween!

A fifth edition’s in the works I hear,
Embellishing our brain-defective list.
Add in RELIGION—held by most so dear—
Eternal work for our psychiatrists!
(6/19/12)

Posted in Bullshit, Conformity, Religion, Wisdom

At The Paddle Tennis Courts: Michael

For M. Z.

It’s strange. Human peculiarities
Often direct self-deserved invective
Outward, a hundred and eighty degrees,
Wounding gracious friends with sharp verbal shivs.

I blame it on advanced technology.
(The bane of all decrepit older folks)
New advances deepen pathology,
And hidden cyber waves cause mental pokes.

But still, ungratefulness is an abuse.
To shout at him, to denigrate his taste—
That foolishness was simply an excuse
To hide my worn out wit, my mind abased.

I went for comic—uttered duds and crud—
Sincere apologies, perhaps, staunch blood!
Truth told? I love these quiet, wholesome hooks:
Reclining chair, dish of nuts, toothsome books.
(6/15/12)

Posted in Friends, Wisdom

Ars Poetica

I look at other people’s new-formed poems
And sink into despair. They detail fights
‘Twixt narrow arteries and veins—syndromes
Of narcissistic shadow and delight.

What’s worse, they focus on crass trivia—
Their twittered rage, affections, lust, and hate—
Rapt desire, widened eyes, and viscera—
All penned behind an ego’s bolted gate.

I seek real rage, not sniveling! The glare
Of words that blare, thunder, strike, launch crusades—
That clear our sense, reveal a world laid bare:
New maps of human history displayed.

Break out of ego-jail, solipsism—
Reflect the antic world’s astounding prism!
What better use for rhyming metered verse—
Rich metaphors enhancing spirit, worth?
(6/9/12)

Posted in Poetry (What is it?), Politics, Vanity

Jennifer’s Collection

Jennifer confided: “My mother asked
‘What do you collect?’” Everyone collects,
It seems—a necessary human task
Illuminating artful intellect.

I fawned, when I was young, on postage stamps.
And thus was spawned a new philatelist
(Which doesn’t mean I lurked at children’s camps—
I, after all, was just a hobbyist).

Some gather paperweights, some fountain pens.
I know one guy who favors wristwatches.
One paid 4 mil for Babe Ruth’s shirt (weird yen)!
Another one collects strange fabric swatches.

But Jennifer’s peculiar rare symbols?
A global slew of esoteric thimbles!
You can’t make such stuff up—you heard it right—
Those patterned thimbles—Jennifer’s delight!
(5/31/12)

Posted in Conformity, Vanity, Who Knows?, Wisdom

Beach Feast

Melon breasts,
Inviting tresses—
Skin like peach
Lights the beach.
Curvaceous rump,
(Large, sweet plums
Astride delicious legs).
The brain, alas,
Just scrambled eggs.
(5/26/12)

Posted in Beauty, Illusion, Local Color, Lust, Vanity