Alexander
Once, many years ago, a keen eyed man with long
Flowing hair, a fast moving horse, a strong
And restless arm that swung a sword to subjugate
The world, died at thirty three. You can rate
His worth by iconography, perhaps a coin
Emblazoned with his glare, or stroll a city square,
And see his feats beneath your feet. He will not care.
Nor did he know he left behind a cultural strand
That fed the world. Curiosity marked his band.
Hey! Hey! Hey!
U.S.A!
Hey! Hey! Hey!
U.S.A!
Hey! Hey! Hey!
U.S.A.!
Some few years went by, sixteen score at least.
There comes a deep eyed man astride a plodding beast.
Indifferent to outraged taunts, he saw beneath
Man’s finery, man’s sharpened steel, man’s golden wreaths.
To other needs he rode, to love and unity,
To Jerusalem, to death. His age was thirty three.
Man cleaves to His iconography with timeless hope.
Say Michaeangelo’s Pieta, of a mom’s embrace
Of her lost son, or of that lonely figure man placed
Against a cross. Or to feed the poor, of loaves and fish
In simple lines, to keep alive his dying wish.
Hey! Hey! Hey!
U.S.A.
Hey! Hey! Hey!
U.S.A.
Hey! Hey! Hey!
U.S.A.!
The world we know grows old and small.
Fly to the moon.
See life as a ball.
Out of the West comes riding a man.
High! Ho! Silver!
Real leather boots.
Wide white hat with a broad black band.
Arm-chair man.
Six trillion guns go off with a roar.
Wow! Yippee!
That war’s done. Lets start more.
Hey! Hey! Hey!
U.S. A. !
Hey! Hey! Hey!
U. S. A.!
Hey! Hey! Hey!
U.S.A.!
This poem is set to an Alexandrine rhyme and meter. An Alexandrine is admirable in a biography, for some men may be less than half, and some may be whole.
On 5/1/03 our president landed on a U.S. Aircraft Carrier which was draped in a banner declaring "Mission Accomplished". Presently, in May of 2011 our military is still in Iraq.
This is dedicated to that lonely group that stands in front of the Post Office on Saturday mornings to protest the moral failure of the war.
|
