Tag Archives: Retribution

Sonnet I: Evil Will Die

Posted by David Emeron on

Shall any reach the stars when no man may?
And who shall lift ye when the rest are gone?
Believe ye he’ll continue, at your sway,
To trust it’s ye from whom his strength is drawn?

What lie is this? What price is added on
To that, with blissful ignorance, his gifts
Have paid? Dare shriek that hand should carry on,
Betrayed, when ye have cursed it while it lifts

Ye from your caves. The mind who guides it drifts
In lofty space. And when it dreams, it keeps
Ye from your graves. The laws of God it sifts,
With all His grace, yea, even as it sleeps.

Yet now, lies still, until your evil dies–
 At rest, until ’tis safe to touch the skies!

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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Into 1: To Atlas And…

Posted by David Emeron on

To All The Weary:
He who waits. He who does not.
He who lifts the Earth.

Holds himself aloft.
Who reaches to the Heavens.
Godspeed either way.

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Sonnet VII: Satan’s Silence

Posted by David Emeron on

Could God’s devout assail with flame a room
Of helpless innocents whose only crime:
Descent from their inferno without time
To don a hooded veil, so to their doom

Were sent? What god commands her to a tomb
Half sunk in earth, and rent with stone by grime
Stained hands, a helpless girl? What paradigm–
That knew the violation of her womb,

Then learnt this travesty her god offends!?
Whose crime could be the punishment of rape?
What god is this?  What votary attends?
While gawkers ’round the world in silence gape?

If God gives love, redemption, hope, and breath,
I name him Satan, feignèd god of death.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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Sonnet VI: The Peace Prayer

Posted by David Emeron on

She sang her hymn before her eyes had seen
The glory of the coming of the Lord,
The blood and death of mortar, gun, and sword,
And brother killing brother long had been.

Then callow-sang of peace, with freedom won,
To eager faces, white and brown… and black,
Whose liberty had just been gifted back
Still soaked with blood by mortar, sword, and gun.

Imagine men had heard that hymn four score
And seven years of blood and death before,
Heard next her callow, pacifist’s decree,
Laid down their arms to study war no more:

With shackled peace from sea to shining sea,
What hue would now such eager faces be?

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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Intro 6: At Any Cost

Posted by David Emeron on

Peace at any cost?
When you pay with a blank check
the price is too high.

Your blank check never seems
to buy you very much.
Best you shop around.

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Sonnet V: By Their Fruits

Posted by David Emeron on

I saw and I believed and then I knew;
As brick and mortar fell, and glass and steel;
And blood and flesh and fire, mien, and weal,
And hope, and dream, and aspiration slew;

And friendship, love and heart, and sky once blue
Now green with envy, angry red with zeal
Of hate, of lie, of wound no lie can heal,
And speculation knowingly untrue.

I heard, I disbelieved and then I thought:
How typical that supposition grew
So cravenly away from where it ought
To rest; from certainty that, shining through
This calumny, these wailing filth have wrought
This death–these filth who hide from what is true.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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