The Virgin Mother named the Son,
Horus. Or was it Adonis, born in that
Shantytown, Bethlehem, where Matthew's
gossip anointed King Herod
Babykiller, channeled by his best
Ramses impersonation. Thank the God(s),
aka Himself, that he spared
Himself, guised under the nickname,
Dionysus, the Miracle Maker,
making miracles for or against
your local barkeep, who banned together,
pinning Him on two sticks, mocking the name
Krishna, self-proclaimed King of Kings,
who, Himself, planned this on Himself
all this time: to live, to die, to live again
as Osiris, or by that other name
that He prefers far far more.
5 comments:
Another rant on Religious Mythos, with my sincere apologies if I offend anyone.
Were I to read this, without your name attached, I would know instantly that this is yours. Much like Brent's poem I like the triviality in yours. The matter-of-factness in your cynicism. And of course I could never make all of these allusions work so seamlessly. I like the minimalistic puncuation and I wonder if you just cut out the periods entirely how it would read. I think that the frenetic pace is great.
I really dig this.
It's so chock full of humor and wit, and yet it rings through with so much Truth.
As far as your rants go, I'm never offended...I'm only delighted.
Cheers...
PS
There is a certain confusion that goes on among the names. This really plays well in questioning religion because there are so many inconsistencies in any one religion and so many similarities across so many religions. This has a really cool effect on the overall poem and ties in very nicely with the title.
This poem intimidates me. Lots of references that I don't get and tells me that Edward knows his shit. The matter-of-factness rocks and I'm a sucker for references, obvious and obscure. I also like how the name Jesus is never mentioned. The tone fits with your other religious poetry. I smell a collection brewing. Well done!
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