Spirited Gods

 

Spirited gods of body and mind,
Cleaving the earth and taking the find,
Arranging the atoms above in a bend,
Beneath which to dine, to dance, and attend
To desirable ends and needful things,
Burning the coal, inventing the wings
Upon which to soar like winged beasts do,
While raising fat herds for the savory stew,
Weaving silk threads, carving bone combs,
Harvesting timber for warm and dry homes,
Gathering the knowledge to hold in one hand,
On tablets of plastic and metal and sand,
Harnessing horses and nuclear parts;
Rocket plumes rise over rickety carts;
From building mud huts to high towers of glass,
From warring with spears to debating with class,
Climbing from caves to the moon and to Mars,
Masters of nature, eyeing the stars.

                                                       ~ Quent Cordair

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New year, same resolve, same banner

New year, same resolve, same banner
New year, same resolve, same banner.
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A Call to Stand
 
One man at war with Man’s deprecation
Calls out to all men to seek no salvation,
To pick themselves up from self-immolation,
To turn from the gods of their own creation,
To stand up and face the day —
To reclaim their birthright to say —
I am that I am, before nothing I kneel;
I mastered the fire, invented the wheel;
I cast the bells true and set them to peal;
I am Man, for whom all else is clay —
I am Man. I make my own way.
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And Again the Angels

And Again the Angels

Again they called to heaven
When around them rose a hell;
Again the angels came from earth
In answer to the bell.
While flesh and blood fought smoke and flame
And kept the black line manned,
Their thanks went to the god by whose
Own breath the fires were fanned.

 

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The original “Again the Angels” is here …

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Eclipsed

Eclipsed

Eclipsed

Their dance was interrupted
As the handmaid slipped between,
With silent glide, as was her way,
Her creases pressed and clean—
“Pray suffer but a moment, ma’am,
Then I’ll be on my way;
You’ll have him back for seven years
Through each and every day.”
With graceful curiosity
The wife let go his hand
And marveled as his aura’s light
Around the maid did band.
Her blackness moved against his white,
The stars and planets awed,
Till wife in wondering twilight thought
Her wisdom might be flawed.
But promise made the maid did keep,
Her turn but for a spell;
A flash of brilliant wedding ring
Told Earth that all was well.

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Copyright 2017, Quent Cordair.