The Wild Wilderness of Oz

Libra

These scales before my eyes

keep me blinded to the sun.

In a metallic, blackened justice

I dwell, weighing your heart

against this feather, my master, you’re heavier.

 

On that grassy knoll, I fell

asleep – The Book of Chuang Tzu

open at my childish feet, Public Enemy

#1 clanging chords through my veins, criss-

crossing my wrists: Extermination Day.

 

This mantis preys upon me:

a sacrifice to the Goddess of Light.

It is my own desire to be

devoured, in prayer, like an eternal lover,

like this book I always wished

to discover open inside my soul.

Could you read it to me aloud, this time, again?

 

Like you always did throughout my childhood,

holding my open palm between your trembling fingers

in the backseat of my father’s Buick,

like you did for all the other men?

Like when you saw the Lord gaze at you

from His lonely eyes hidden within that fallen tree…

 

The same Lord my grandfather met

when he decided to be reborn to this life.

In the reign of the Antichrist, on this hellish plane,

he waited only for me.  For three times four

long years, he waited only for me.

 

In a hospital bed, to be sacrificed,

a halo around his balding head, in a robe

of white, upon the burning coals of this

downward slope – only to be born again,

here, with me, his nemesis, his twin.

 

For more of Israfel Sivad’s poems, please go to: amazon.com/author/israfel-sivad

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