Alan Bruce Thompson


One Angel Per Pinhead


The wings are delicately balanced,
As I have learnt the art of only one foot on the pinhead.
They are all looking at me as I hover, aren't they?
No doubt admiring my greatness as I sweep the wind of the world.

Vatican scholars have long pondered how many we are,
Well the answer is, only one. There can be, only one.
Because I am alone in my uniqueness, alone because of my uniqueness,
Alone because I can no longer tolerate those who don’t bask in my holiness.
There are those whom I want to be there, but who don't envy this life on my pinhead.
How dare they!

I can't imagine that there are those fools
who actually don't need this feeling of uniqueness.
Don't want this greatness, hate the pedestal,
prefer a quiet life, don't need the adrenalin.

I have been trying to force those fools to want to be part of my greatness.
Persuasion did not work. Damn it, there are some who still refuse.
These ones will be cursed. I will curse them. I will hunt them down.
I will speak against them in sacred places, in fact I will speak against them everywhere,
out of context. It is my right!
I will condemn them in public, because they don't need what I demand they should want.

Usually aspirers are content with a library named after them,
but such aspirations are trivial compared with my worth.
Some become knighted, others sanctified, but only I know what they cannot know,
there can be only one angel per pinhead.

Submitted: Monday, September 09, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (One Angel Per Pinhead by Alan Bruce Thompson )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

PoemHunter.com Updates

Poem of the Day

poet John Clare

I love to see the old heath's withered brake
Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze and ling,
While the old heron from the lonely lake
Starts slow and flaps its melancholy wing,
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Grace Paley

 

Trending Poems

  1. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
  2. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  3. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  4. If, Rudyard Kipling
  5. As I Grew Older, Langston Hughes
  6. Warning, Jenny Joseph
  7. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  8. Invictus, William Ernest Henley
  9. Away, Melancholy, Stevie Smith
  10. Alone, Edgar Allan Poe

Trending Poets

[Hata Bildir]