Oversight

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Let’s face it:  each man lives according to

His nature, be it good or evil — both —

Whatever.  Dracula puts stakes straight through,

Down through a chest and abdomen, the growth

Of wickedness inside, atomic cloud

Above a silk kimono in Japan.

Saint Francis of Assisi knows a shroud

Awaits no matter if a perfect man

Is pierced by goodness in his hands and feet.

He had no choice, not really.  Fever shook

His brain.  Each man will always, ever meet

His fate.  His soul can only overcook.

  His nature isn’t his except that he

     Cannot escape God’s fish-hook destiny.

~ Phillip Whidden