The Urn (of Mortal Wounds)
I
Before the many…the few
Hardened heralds warned,
“Hear ye hear ye…be aware
Our gardens toil.”
“Beware! The seed is spoiled,
Let it not be taken;
Taken to soil.
Such roots-tainted, produced
Bitters’ oils… deliberant’s fruits.”
Beware lest men are found,
Partaking turns-forsaken,
Tastes of bitter worm;
Returns from bellies,
Spat into the urn.
They earn their mortal wounds.
(Behind them the busy just sweep.)
Before the many are due.
(Servants are gathering)
…Ashes of accounts
-Upon their foreheads
-Upon their hands
Except the preachers fingers
(Too busy pointing at the beast)
Pointed marks for those that they abused.
The things they will think,
The things they will do-in
Finding ways to shallow ground,
Confounding ways around the truth
Along the tortuous path of mortal wounds
Where jealous ones are suffered Hells
Vanity from earthly pulpits spew
And Envy sits back for all to view
On heavenly throne
(That’s where we want to be too.)
II
From the urn forever’s wound
Blinded men have rubbed,
Some wishing more than three.
From the Jinn forever’s wound
Stealing womens' shine,
So many now have wished for less than two.
(The Cardinals red face looks away and sings)
And the doctors for a minute quit healing
As brackish hands are found polishing,
Till their hands tore harshly.
Unlearned, wiping unclean.
Despair begetting despairs
Thus yearning so; mortals wound.
From the Jinn forever's wounds
Found digging into belies deep,
Pummeling old wounds;
Opening old clots,
Through bloody crusts accrued.
These severing men reach for wombs
Unto these tombs; swept.
Into the urn of mortal wounds.
Before the many… less the few.
Beware!
Their breath goes forwards,
Into a growing crowd
Surge, undulating, undisturbed.
III
In the front of them
Constant's pools even formed,
Drippings from warmed foreheads
The forewarnings of blissful sweat.
These-soaked in- found their ways
To shallow grounds,
Where souls are striven.
Those yearning to be clean, sought release
In finding ways around cold graves.
(Below them still old heralds sleep)
Before the many, the most
Discontented servants …smiling,
Gathered around, earning ashes,
Ashes of accounts.
Bended knees, tilted necks
The looking downwards are also swept.
One day's wages, one day's bread!
One ounce of flesh per pound
Swept, into their urns are kept.
Satisfied how many more accrue?
Satisfied how many more return?
To rub the urn
To rub the urn of Mortal wounds.
A contest entry
- ENTER poets of the dark by darkyinsoul.
750 points, ended November 3, 39 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Paint The Words by Sounds-Like-This.
475 points, ends December 8, 40 entries
• next poem in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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Shocking
This poem was powerful!! The imagery that flows from the words and the literary devices used is very strong indeed. I like how you broke it up into parts instead of leaving it as one whole long story. I couldnt really find anything to criticize, which is always a plus. Great job. -
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thank you
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Powerful Imagery!!
This is one heavy urn, Michael!! I'm really surprised they didn't award you a shiny for this piece. 
Great job!! 
Keep it flowing, Poet!! 
Peace,
Cyn
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thanks Cynthia, yea, lucky for me I don't put to much emphasis on the shiny: cause I mostly seem to come up shiny shy...peace
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Better days are always ahead...
Keep your quill flowing, Poet!! 
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Wow~
This is One Powerful verse with Message
that grabs the Reader hard~
Love the Imagery and Your weaving of words
You penned in such depth~ where substance
drips from each Stanza~
Adore how You took the Reader on a Journey
so One could leave with feeling the Experience
When I digested urn~ the symbolism~
of that word~ tears began to fall also Image of
how Man incites his or her lack of Understanding
in a Metaphoric way I speak...where Another is
Mortally wounded~ slain by sword~
Mental-Emotional-Physical-Spiritual slaughter
Painful to Imagine but reality in the world
we Live in
Bravo on bringing forth~ what needed to be said
Appreciate Your visit to my work~ Thankies
Keep that quill & Mind dancing
Thank You for sharing Your Voice & Talent
Best wishes in the contest ~
with love & light~ Desire~*~
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Bad
Why would you write that poem? I didn't even read all of it, it was so boring -
when you write this from deep with in you it takes hours and so much out of you . I come back and read again and again like the garden ones . they make me wonder and take away many things.. to the mood I am in. love you Michael my friend.
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heart felt write that captivates the
reader throughtout
well done poet
intense emotion
love these lines..
Along the tortuous path of mortal wounds
Where jealous ones are suffered Hells
Vanity from earthly pulpits spew
And Envy sits back for all to view
On heavenly throne
good luck to you in the contest
thanks for the share
Darky
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thank you
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OH MY GOSH, Michael. This is heavy. I believe this is not the first allegory I have read from you. It seems to be your forte. The moniachal, the helpless, the onlookers, the protestors...all the players represented here.
How tragic that WE have creaated such an urn... to bloody our hands upon the innocent is unthinkable, and then to mask it so as not to "spoil" the earth... and yes the consequences have affected all of humanity, already. This thing is loeaded with horrific ides and imager...the actual spitting into the urn being the one that stick out the most.
Your point is passionate and striking. Thank you for sharing such heart.
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thank you Ten you nailed it flush yes, the growing consequences of our humanity we are amassing such dues-ahh, the anxiety of it all...as always-peace
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I have to come back and read again and again, the reader takes away what they will abortion kept coming in my mind it is what I saw and felt.
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the abortions of truth
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no not really!
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