Satanic Verse Poem by Thomas Vaughan Jones

Satanic Verse

Rating: 5.0


A poet sat in melancholy,
morbid, self-reflective folly
in the iron grip of writer’s block.
He found no words to grace his pen
and thought he’d never write again
Then Lucifer himself came by to mock.

“Oh Poet. You have had your time.
No more will you carouse in rhyme,
no more will metric musings reign supreme.
The days of formal verse are done;
The world has faltered then moved on
without the cadent essence of your dream.”

The poet answered in reply,
”Not while there lives one such as I;
For poetry is of a form divine.
To me a verse is all the sweeter
couched in modulated metre.
Drafted to fulfil some grand design.”

The ozone reeked an odorous smell
that leaked out from the jaws of Hell
Ten thousand imps leaped out to take the stage.
The air filled with ferocious frizzle,
simmering sounds and sulphurous sizzle
Spitting snarling clamourings of rage

The leaves from trees fell to the ground.
Birds ceased from flight without a sound,
as demons plied their parody of verse.
Lightning flashed in an acrid sky,
grass turned brown and seas ran dry
in fearful response to Satan’s curse.

The poet viewed the face of Death.
He cleared his throat and drew a breath.
His words rang out in semblance of a prayer.
They resonated, crystal clear,
encompassed all he held most dear,
spreading like perfume through the tainted air.

He stood before the evil throng,
his voice uplifted in his song,
and every word rang honestly and true.
Each fashioned facet of his art
a mirror of his noble heart,
in exhibition openly on view.

The Poem spread Her wings and Blessed
all of the Love his words caressed.
The Devil turned away with manic scream.
Left to observe and contemplate
that Love will always conquer hate,
so long as poets hold on to the dream

Saturday, April 19, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: poetry
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Valerie Dohren 20 April 2014

To rhyme or not to rhyme, that is the question - if none shall rhyme then folly be, for rhyming is true poetry. So we are all agreed on this then Thomas? ! Very good.

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Joseph Anderson 19 April 2014

Tom- deep, perhaps to mysticly deep for the the crowd we are amid.Unigue rhyming pattern. Splendid last stanza.Tell the devil to go to Hell, we are going to keep on rhyming.Poetry without rhyme is like a body without soul. You did provoke much thought-10 plus

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