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The Plowshare Is The Sword : V1.0 {reseeding my future}
by Richard PaezThe Plowshare Is The Sword : V1.0
{reseeding my future}
They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore. – Isaiah 2:4
"Those who beat their swords into plowshares will end up plowing for those who did not." – Benjamin Franklin
Brain-leaden and foot-slow
I'm dragging, digging
trenches
with each plodding step:
{Yeah, I've said this before}
the troughs behind me overflow
with the laments of the Left-Behind.
Brain-deadened and lead-soled
All of history
mirrors
the circles I plot:
{I'm repeating myself}
the pens behind me overfill
with the Rejects I have left behind.
Yet mine is the idiotic
forward-plowing,
furrow-digging,
steady-plodding
regrettable,
contemptible way.
And the piggies I've abandoned –
hoofs in their dirt,
snouts in their troughs,
eyes on pen-walls,
squealing, stamping,
little pink faces;
their little, dark and hateful eyes
crazed, beady stares,
sine-pitched screaming,
all open mouthed,
corrugated
piebald gibbering
– watch me reseed my future.
~~~
Brain-leaden and foot-slow,
brain-deadened and lead-soled:
I'm dragging, digging
all of history
trenches, mirrors
with each plodding step
the circles I plot:
Yeah, I've said this before,
I'm repeating myself:
The troughs behind me overflow
with the laments of the Left-Behind,
the pens behind me overfill
with the Rejects I have left behind:
Yet mine is the idiotic
forward-plowing,
furrow-digging,
steady-plodding
regrettable,
contemptible way
And the piggies I've abandoned
hoofs in their dirt,
snouts in their troughs,
eyes on pen-walls,
squealing, stamping,
little pink faces:
their little, dark and hateful eyes
crazed, beady stares,
sine-pitched screaming,
all open mouthed,
corrugated
piebald gibbering
– watch me receding into
my brain-leaden, foot-slow
dragging, digging of
trenches
for the piggies I've left behind
hoofs in the dirt,
snouts in the troughs
I've dug for them
Brain-deadened and lead-soled
All of history
mirrors
their little, dark and hateful eyes
crazed, beady stares,
sine-pitched screaming
wanting what's mine
receding into my future
their snouts down
in the troughs
behind me
they drown, drown, drown. 02/20/2010 Author's Note: Updated 02/21/10
Posted on 02/20/2010
Copyright © 2024 Richard Paez
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jim Benz on 02/20/10 at 06:53 PM not to be bland in my comment, but this is really good stuff Richard. The tireless/tiring way it builds and transforms through repetition, particularly in relation to the opening quotes, is extremely effective. The quotes, though, are difficult to read, due to the color you chose for their font. Purposeful, or just an unanticipated effect? |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/21/10 at 05:23 AM The pigs are just frightful, the circling nightmare like a steady battering, the receding/reseeding is brilliant. The pink lines are hard to discern. This is depressingly compelling. Well done. |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 03/15/11 at 11:44 PM Isaiah was writing of a day when God will rule directly on earth I believe. Until then Franklin is undoubtedly right unfortunately.
As to the poem the reader must bring his own experience to interpret it for her/himself. |
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