Wednesday, April 16, 2025

Moloch's Howl

 






From the quiet streams of Azul

Came a rippling tone

That lingered in deep timbre,

A clarinet note standing long

And followed along by mellow notes

That no luthier could comprehend

For the cellos spoke in labored tones

As the stage and the moment came forward

And unto the place where the rebels and poets

Gathered to a great palaver.

 

“What is happening with Moloch’s howl?”

 

The voices were stained to speak their truths

Yet, the constraints were a self-made noose

Weaved and fashioned threads of ego

And wetted tightly by the hot oils of personalities.

 

“Who is Moloch?”

 

And where is the orator of verse?

Has anyone seen the tower bells

sway so violently

calling for a rampage of rage?

Listen – be still, heed the alarum:

 

“Gather the best words

Bring your nouns of renown

And add adjectives

that flare and flair the affair!

Strike fiercely and accurately with acute verbs

That all will ignite poetry

and bring light to the darkness of doubt

bring vision to those blinded by the mirror

bring understanding to those who are stunted

bring acceptance into the room of exception

bring Moloch; sing Moloch; sting Moloch!”

 

This is the new anthem of the old fray.

Stand back and stand aside –

Moloch has entered the arena.








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