Thursday, October 20, 2005

Selah 4

Psalm 4:2
O men, how long shall my honour be turned into shame? How long will you love vain words and seek after lies? Selah.

Pseudo-conjoined but stranger fraternals from long before birth;
from womb-battering struggle to ‘Grasper’ and ‘Red-as-the-Earth’.
One, patience subverted to stirring a savoury snare,
to hunt hunter, exhausted; the other, the elder, the heir,
thus prizing the bounty.

Exchange the birthright for a bowl of lentil stew,
a cheat-the-belly, filling up of you
to leave you empty.

Primogenitured choice, designated receiver of blessing to come.
Self-destructing intent: bless and die when the hunter gets home.
The mother usurps, instigating the turn of the tide.
Her son, pliant, and, blindness (the father’s) a good place to hide
playacting the story.

Extract the blessing in a sweat of purloined suit:-
• Taste,
• touch
• and smell all tally,
• though hearing is out.
Skin, smothering glory.

Proto-generic — specifically waiting to claim back the lot.
In two groups advancing — appeasement the heart of the plot.
A meeting of brothers; (a cleansing? a healing? a break
with disjointed experience?) — for family-value, a wake
cements the division.

Accept the bribe for now and let your brother go
or take this chance of cleaving to him — No!
Abandoned the vision.

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