There’s a Morning Waiting
By the god of daylight a quilted quiver Of sin lain beside me in the morning/ Worship of all that kneeled before me In absolved prayer with the priest with Two sons; one in religion; one in shame/ A blame of another kind. Lust has taken those forsaken. Earthly body returns to earth in dust. The bells— they ring, they ring and angels Bring out the remains of your Judas love. With your rosary beads and divination Unknown you walk the path not shown— There’s a morning waiting at the end of The road shrouded in Biblical revelation, All cock-eyed in the hold of another hand. Lucifer comes round during Jupiter darkness And kisses the ground walked by disrobed Saints scholars and prophets from Mecca. Flight of darkness in dawns early light, Those chosen depart with the parting And all history awaits.
Sunflower Seeds In Your Pocket
Ukrainian proverb:‘Love thy neighbour, but pull not down thy hedge.’
We sheltered from the wings of war with their missiles.
We’re fated to our destiny
a father leaves to go battle. This is our future history.
now
the skies scream down evil
the last goodbye: it was never our intention it was never meant to be our final destination.
In the metro sleep the future generation
hearing a new reality of warit was never God’s intention
for them to hear death
So near so soon. Although
the world still turned and houses still burned
we’re fated to waiting for fredsbringer
with sunflower seeds in our pockets.
Wolfpack Contributor: Robin McNamara
Published poetry by Robin McNamara from “Under A Mind’s Staircase”
Fevers of the Mind 