Touch Not Poem by Chris Jibero

Resting on my head
Is a golden jar-like crown
Of holy anointing oil
That waters me like a tree
Planted by the rivers of water

Heavens crash helmet
And life jacket
Shielding me from the fiiery darts
Of the enemy
Heeding not the injunction
'Touch not mine anointed,
And do my prophets no harm.'
Thereby inviting their ignoble end
Fast forwarded by recklessness
And self adulation
As Herod
The foolish fighter of the Word
And his apostles
Made minced pie
For wriggling worms.


(2002)