Symbolism as Xenon in the Troposphere

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

Our symbols are far lighter than the air

They live in just as hydrogen must float

Above it when in bright balloons — and prayer

Must rise above disgustingness and bloat

Of rape and its component parts.  The cross

Of Christ is gaseous contrasted with

The torture in reality.  The dross

Of living weighs us down and so the myth

Cries out for us to rise from rock-carved tombs.

That flag you sing and anthem that you wave

Are needed since our nation’s filthy rooms

Would lock us in.  We need a candle nave.

  The spirit too must search a way to rise

    Above the heavy soul to heightened skies.

© Phillip Whidden