|
Dusty Rivers
by George Hoernerwe throw our best
at their deserts
their dusty rivers
swallow them
thirsting for more
their poor wallow
in black gold
gushing from the ground
drowning some
while acting as a magnet
brinkmanship and business
western parched throats
cough at the results
the king has spoken
and the pawns rush forward
the gods growl
at each other
as true believers
disintegrate themselves
and all within reach
will a queen intercede
will this end in stalemate
will the gods decide
it is early in the century
there is time for many
more wars
03/31/2008
Posted on 04/16/2008
Copyright © 2024 George Hoerner
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 04/16/08 at 04:37 PM ...george, this is king/queen of pomes...as i'm walking along w/ the wind in meface, you pose a hefty concept of 'vision' green for black, gold for black, clear water for black...too much bubba, too much, charlie |
| Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 04/20/08 at 03:13 PM This is awesome. Just awesome! |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 09/26/09 at 05:23 PM You make me want to go back and read the headlines from March 2008. But whatever they were, the players didn't know they had such an astute and penetrating observer watching. You threw em a hardun, George. Way to gol |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 09/13/12 at 12:17 PM I used to carve chess sets out of Ivory Soap. And I recall while I was carving each peace that they couldn't wait for me to finish so as to be set down on the board, so as to commence the warfare which is always about class or the lack of it. Needless to say, I was the least interested in such hostility given I'm a pacifist and lover of art for art sake. And yet, it seems ironic that out of a pacifistic hand should arrive the articles of war. |
|
