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Another Old Myth

The Ancient One warned Noah’s doom was near.
Since men possessed with greed kept spilling blood,
That cataclysmic rain would soon appear.
So Noah built an ark before the flood.
No matter now that temperatures still rise
Or icy rivers melt, leave basins bare;
That forest fires scorch and burn the eyes;
And missiles burst while one or two are spared.
The Master warned (some call it balderdash…)
“The sun will hide, the moon will not give light,
The stars will fall” and fill the sky with ash.
Still, men will never sate their appetites.
Such legends many are dispensing with
Since they know Revelation is a myth.

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The quote from lines 10-11 is from Mark 13.24-25

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Legacy

Heat waves and ice
Corroded doors.
Termites gorged on
Pine floorboards.

A chimney stands
Among the trees
Amid the roar of
buzzing bees.

Tin soldiers rust
And a toy plane.
Under a shrub,
The old man’s cane.

The playroom floor,
Adorned with ferns.
The walls long gone
From seasons’ turn.

Their spirits’ watch
In vacant space—
I feel their breaths
upon my face.

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Peter Venable has been writing poetry for 50 years. He has been published in Windhover, Third Wednesday, Time of Singing, The Merton Seasonal, American Vendantist, The Anglican Theological Review, and others. He is a member of the Winston Salem Writers. On the whimsical side, he has been published in Bluepepper, Parody, Laughing Dog, The Asses of Parnassus, and Lighten Up Online (e. g. # 48).

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2 Responses

  1. Joseph S. Salemi

    Both of these are well-crafted poems, and both carry a strong feeling of pessimism and even hopelessness. The first one suggests that the apocalyptic horrors of which scripture speaks are in fact happening right now, but most persons simply do not recognize them. The second is elegiac in tone, very much like certain Anglo-Saxon poems, where the speaker meditates on ruins, and the remains of what was human habitation and activity.

    Reply
  2. Paul A. Freeman

    A poem laying out the manmade disasters unfolding and affecting our Earth – thanks for raising the profile of environmental issues in poetry, Peter. I was looking at ‘icy rivers melt(ing)’ with my students the other day, in particular the Upsala Glacier in Argentina.

    I love ‘Legacy’, with its snapshot stanzas building up a picture of a deserted habitation, leaving the reader to decide the story behind those snapshots. Perhaps this is Mankind’s legacy once he’s done himself in!

    Thanks for the profound reads.

    Reply

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