I - a Disruption
Someone wrote for praise today
Water on my molding clay
You like the hard subject, a gift
Of wind without a lift
For I would think
My world so transparent in words
Would explain my link
My little flight with birds
For things of the poet's heart
Are not the tangibles of our life
Though by tangibles we break apart
And enter vile vortex of strife
I care for every forest razed
Every broken wing of child
Every woman raped, battered, daze
Every soldier wounded in the fight
I am the echo of art, the points
Of negotiation with powerlessness
The sacrifice that love appoints
I disrupt coherence of selfishness
And will confront kings and citadels
A vulture at the rotten heart
A dog to bark and bite at infidels
I am the conscience in the art.
This is my gift, my task, my delight
To be a candle in starless windy night
To tell the disillusioned you are right
To take to hell the gospel's fight
And proclaim God's kingdom come
So love is not an easy chair for me
Not noble dreams of figment freedom
I am its better memory.
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