The Masters
Poem 9 of 10 in Canto for David, poems about Israel and Palestine
Is there a bright line
That separates
Indifference and contempt
From the darker
Urge to exterminate?
Surely it is a journey of a thousand steps…
That leads over the
Mountains of Deceit
Down through the
Gorge of Avarice
Passing the
Plains of
Ignorance and thence
Through the well trodden
Valleys of Violence
Until we are led
To the promised
Uplit lands
(Where our failures and shame
Can be consigned to
History, which is only ever
Preserved in the dark)
At last our self-hate
Can evaporate
In the bright
Destroying sun
This must be the long
Promised place
Where we will never be
Prey again
Shalom for us, at last
Arriving we notice the others
Still in our midst
They were useful (for a while)
For cleaning and carrying and such
(When they remembered their place)
More often than not they were
Unruly mules
We tolerated them
But made sure never to spare the whip
Now their presence troubles us
Disturbing in ways we can’t quite say
They are an aside
Not fully real
Not like our kind
These half-remembered
Wailing ghosts
Begging for their existence
In the valley of the ancient
Kings
Hear our roar:
We are the masters now!
The shifting desert sands
Stretched out serpentine
Whispering:
Silence
All things shall fail in time
From Canto for David, ten poems about Israel and Palestine. The introduction, dedications and suggested reading are on the Canto’s page.
