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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The King of Babylondots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: dancer-of-words
    ASL Info:    21/trans/US
    Elite Ratio:    4.6 - 167/158/74
    Words: 274
    Class/Type: Poetry/
    Total Views: 863
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1783



    Description:
       The poem only conveys its full meaning if the reader is acquainted with the Biblical stories it references.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsThe King of Babylondots
    -------------------------------------------


    The ancient King of Babylon
    believed in An and Sin,
    and by the sands
    of arid lands
    built palaces within.

    He had a headdress made of gold,
    and rings, five to a hand,
    and with a rule
    most harsh and cruel
    he reigned over the land.

    He was the lord and King of Kings,
    he was the night and day,
    his line was old,
    his head was gold,
    his feet were made of clay.

    Oh Babylon! So very great,
    and yet so filled with bitter hate;
    the nations’ blood you wallowed in
    and crushed the courts of Solomon
    but died a lurid fate.

    Oh Babylon! What wrathful God
    commanded: “Sing a senseless song?”
    And bid you eat the grass of fields,
    and greenery that Nature yields,
    and let your nails grow long?

    A golden cup filled up with hate,
    the rims reads “Babylon the Great,”
    Great Babylon will drink her fill
    who caused a nations’ blood to spill
    and burned the Essene gate.

    What curse, what exile, what call
    causes the temple courts to fall,
    and leaves a Southern land bereft
    with only scattered remnants left,
    and none to keep their home at all?

    Oh Solomon! Your wealth of old,
    and all your inner rooms of gold!
    Your purple cloth from foreign ports,
    wise were your words, great were your courts,
    and all the proverbs that you told.


    O rock hewn not from human hands
    amidst the sands of arid lands,
    where are your temple courts of stone?
    Where is God’s holy golden throne?
    One Wailing Wall. Naught else still stands.





    Submitted on 2013-01-03 19:19:29     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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    ||| Comments |||
      This is well-done. Well done. I can't do rhyming, but I appreciate very much how it lends itself to something like music. How it has a structure ... and some of the best are often the most subtle but it allows strength to bury itself in the foundation of the poem.

    There are a couple little lines that struck me, splinters in your wood that could beed sanded...

    in nations’ blood you wallowed in

    the second "in" is unnecessary... maybe "the nations' blood"

    less so, but the double "hated" in "hated, unabated, and hated who was not to blame" sticks out a bit.

    otherwise bravo. bravura. something.
    | Posted on 2013-01-08 00:00:00 | by lukewarm | [ Reply to This ]


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