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March 31, 2006

The Epiphany of the Priest Gone Swine

Chaos and fortune met in a house of java
At the end of a sundown moment in the spacetimecontinuum
Providing light, projection, and flicker of thought;
Could be pointed, could be smooth, could be near explosive
But the spark remained lit for the journey

From journeys long in dark rooms
From winding road in Chaucer’s tales
From belly laughs of light gone by
And onward to a peacetime

Chaos and fortune met in a field of nightmares
In the heart of confusion and the remnant of old campfiresites
Giving hope, tranquility, and stillness of moments;
Maybe darkness, maybe fireside, maybe tossed in the ocean
And the flame grew in size in the dream

From pathways steep and driving
From whiskers of a weeping giant
From winded Catechism vespers passed
And forward to a quietspace

Chaos and fortune met in a haunted planetarium
With the prospect of molding and shaping deepprecision
Holding chainsaws, fire, and engines of imagination;
Should be mystic, should be close by, should be something holy
As the priest takes his place among the swine

From monasteries cold and distant
From spotless confession booths
From road to Sermon on the Mount
But downward to the pigstrough

Amen.

11:40 Posted in Poetry | Permalink | Comments (0) | Email this