Dear All,
This is my latest poem, which was inspired by my recent contact and absorption into the Men's Rights Movement, among other allegiances and considerations I have.
My goal, and, I think, any poet's goal, should not be to be obscurantist, but rather to phrase things as happily and clearly as possible without ceasing to make use of the symbolic potential poetry offers, in order to achieve a level of poetic irony or ambiguity that reaches past the literal to touch the soul's subconscious hopes and fears.
Cpl Ferro
* * *
THE TRAINS ARE COMING!
O Star of penultimate worth!
O veiled moon of Zeus
Retain your scars,
Retain your truths...
(The trains are coming)
We will not touch you, Sacred One!
We will not tear your veil--
No landings there,
No footsteps male.
(The trains are coming)
(The trains are coming)
Into the inky gulfs we'll go
Like gentle harvestmen--
But not to you;
Never your when.
(The trains are coming)
(The trains are coming)
(The trains are coming)
We almost lost our sight of You...
Amorphous mists occlude;
Menstrual rain
Congeals, seeks food.
(The trains are coming)
(The trains are coming)
(The trains are coming)
(The trains are coming)
We spill libation to our Star--
The one we'll never know--
In honour of the pain it took
To staunch the crimson flow.
In praise of God the Hidden One
Whose Wisdom did provide
A fighting brain and comrades true
Whose labours turned the tide.
(The trains)
At such a cost--at such a cost!
To build rails to the stars
To overcome the covens cold
And pin our hopes afar.
When Reason can't go to the end,
When Logic stumbles, fagged
Remember those rails to the stars
We built--to our sons bragged!
(The trains have)
There must be limits to our scope
Libation's all we need
The blood of men great small and hurt
Will our Europa feed.
The Blob is dead, her spell is spent
Cosmic rays wash the rain
Our progeny watch breathless now
Awaiting for the Trains!
The trains have come!
The trains have come!
The trains have come!
Thank Christ Almighty--
The trains have come!
