Poem -
How the Righteous Half Live
I.
The good son knows he is lost
He knows that in the future...
He will remember his way home
And that dead God?
He will be his Living Father
II.
The bad son doesn't believe in higher gods
He only sees the carcass of his father
He detirmines not to be so weak
III.
The good son grows the fleece of glory
The bad son grows horns that trip him up
They curl inward and pierce his fretful eyes
IV.
Sheep remembers and becomes a man
Goat gets trapped upon the altar and dies a billion deaths
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Comments
Such an art form your poetry is. It always draws me in. Kudos to you, peace and smiles. TFOTSÂ
What a wonderful complement. Thanks Max. I once took a Creative Writing elective unit and the lecturer said "The short poem is like an artwork hung on a gallery wall." So, he would be glad to know I have done justice to that concept.Â
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SHALOM đđź
Wow! I'd love to have done that at Uni, also sorry for saying TFOTS, it's really hard to keep up with who knows me by what. Lol, I try my best. Love that quote again, absolutely fantastic.Â
No need to apologise, I thought nothing of it. It's perfectly fine to mix it up. Off line my name can be Rayan, Ryan (English), Rian (Indonesian), Rayhan (Urdu/Bangla) or Lian (Japanese). It doesn't bother me what I am called... a Sudanese friend calls me Riri as a nickname---if it were said by someone else it would sound a bit feminine but with his Sudanese accent it sounds cool. Hahahaha
Wow!!! That's so cool, but does seem complicated, doesn't it? ;) You really open my eyes to your culture. What would you like to be called on the Cosmos by the way? Kind regards, your friend Max
I prefer al-Bikaadi, but Rayan is fine also
No problem! al-Bikaadi it is ;)