The Novel

it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
All that glitters is not gold
But if it were, what would we say
When we found what was not old
"A new god, a new era, a new day"?
The imprecations roar, and why not
Do we grasp as the crow has got
A new bauble - "make way, make way
For the future bright and star-shot"?

The novel - and the era so named
For a litany of splendid things
Which pass before, brazen, inflamed
With passion on passion's wings
The eyes do not know what they're seeing
But it has never been seen, freeing
The mind to wish what it brings
And never understand its being.
a postscript is here written:
"As engineers, a new shiny component is a marvel, in and of itself. As a priest, it is an entry vector for the demonic. Both view[s] are valid, and must be held in tension."


Pandora's Spirits

it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
Red-eyed Pandora sat weeping
To see the elements' powers
Though hope may yet come creeping
Her time will not be ours;
A wee box, with a turn of the key
Sprung open by strange device
Its mechanic all too precise
A moment of liberty;
Out they come one by one
Then their names we did learn
And without word they run
The time of the Taciturn;
And time for mankind is keeping
A record of reason sleeping
Such monsters must crash - and burn
Red-eyed, Pandora sat weeping.


The Court's Witness

it is addressed thusly:
A vision.
it reads:
Ever do they exploit the dead
Body over body - better when young
Were they whom of it was once said
"As of yet their crimes are still unsung?"
And what of their glories many and true
The latter is theirs, but for me and you
The lash is ready, if it has not yet stung
To remind us of our sins many or few

What good is a child if not for his flesh
Think of just how well this explains
Their system of thought, well as the best
Though feebly they repent of its stains
That stains that is, which profit no more
A migrant child, who dies at the door
The parts of a fetus which nobody names
Free bodies to wage their perpetual war.

But history's judge cannot be bought
Though for a time themselves they deceive
Treasures were gained, wars were fought
It was our honor, such to receive
In thankfulness, in holy dread
But they said thus to their own instead
"We must decrease", and history leave
Still ever do they exploit the dead.


The Song of Winnowing

it is addressed thusly:
A song.
it reads:
When he moved, the earth itself shook
And his movements from heaven were seen
Upon the roundness of it he took
As great a host as ever had been
To make his own whatever he saw
A totality in whole without flaw
A body such as this - what can it mean
A witness of might as its own law?

A hundred millions was a short guess
Two, three, five - one in twelve came
Of those who dwell on earth, confess
Neither man nor sod would be the same
Haters of war but lovers of power
Made them devotees in that hour
Of his religion, truly but his name
With might blooming a timely flower;

Waves of men and arms like the sea
At the last moment the keys must turn
And Pandora's spirits arise, set free
Flight on flight the atom to burn
And make of half-billion a stain
That deplorable word, its dark refrain
"Fall out of the sky, O taciturn --
Where once was might, make silence remain."