This poem is an *IA Writing Competition (creative work category) entry.
Clash by night
Now we are all eschatologists,
(red skeletal leaf our emblem).
Life here excessively grim,
we can’t call on any Christs
or interceding Prophets
with their nostrums of repair,
but make our lone philosophy ─
If an afterlife is; or has fled
when neighbour has a bullet in the head
and children starve in awful agony.
Eternity.
A smokescreen now has to dissolve.
Perhaps a Palestine Sunbird may evolve.
K F Pearson has been an art critic, journalist, editor, and anthologist. He is also a co-founder of Black Pepper Publishing and author of several poetry books, which can be found HERE.
* Full IA Writing Competition details HERE.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Australia License
Support independent journalism Subscribe to IA.
Related Articles
- POEM: What is labour about Labor?
- POEM: Not in my name
- The creature of caprice
- POEM: The Cabins
- She change
