Poetry / Laughing at Sheep
I laugh at sheep
through the wool of my beard,
faux-wolf with blunted teeth,
trembling with fear.
Claw is shed from hoof
like rut-velvet in spring;
the raven perches on the roof,
gas-jets sing, and sing.
I laugh at sheep
while longing for the fang,
the leap,
the cleansing pain—
I am the sacrifice,
the bleating lamb,
the dirty Christ
bleeding in your hand.
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It took me a few reads to REALLY get the symbolism. Although I don’t prefer it, I like the rhyming. It works well. I think the entire piece is deep, spiritual. It really makes you think and feel. Good job!
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Very nice piece. Brilliant use of wordplay and the imagery is quite fascinating. I love the line “through the wool of my beard.” Quite inventive. There isn’t a lot to adapt here. The flow of words is great, imagery quite inventive, and the point it makes is very present. I think you have penned a very publishable piece that provokes thought. The only improvements I would make are very nit-picky sorts of things. One point, for flow, would be to make the last line of stanza two: gas-jets sing, sing, and sing or even sing & sing & sing. It just feels better to say that way. All in all, a very fine piece.
This is very quick and simple, yet is has such a twist to it in only four stanzas. I have a fascination with religion in poetry and this one hits the spot. Great piece.
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