Verbal God Poem by Oleg Vorobyov

The Babel's scathing curse
As Jehova in wrath
Mixed up and tossed the tongues
Of the ambitioous folk
Who durst a zikkurat
To be a scale to skies, -

It's still a lasting bane
While casting a mute pall
O'r our kin who can't
To grasp each other's ken,
Dumb dogs, not their fault,
That feel but won't speak!

Antiquity has ebbed.
This lingual divide
Because of middlemen,
Translators, polyglots,
Our cosmopolitanism
Feels not that harsh, acute.

Word's undivided rule's,
However, evil right!
Supremacy of what's
Implanted in our mouths
And spat out abroad,
Seems our damnable lot!

So, here comes the God,
The Logos, merciless Word!
A breath, a lisp, a sign
Is Verbal God's design!
A turn, a change, a stroke
Means just His flame to stoke!

The God that kills by mouth,
That sunders north and south;
That trails off in vile shrouds;
That dims man's whereabouts;
That swears falsehood daring;
That's negligence, not caring!

What has been said, thin odds,
Can't be unsaid. Hence, hordes
Of tinsel, trashy meanings
Are being hurled at innings
Of disputes, brawls, palavers!
(But words are naughts, cadavers...)

Yet, one might argue: Worship
Of love is not aversion!
A tender word, a prayer
Is like sweet music rare!
A word of comfort cures!
The word of Greats endures!

Yea, it is true. The balance
Tips to words trim, good gallants
Which bring relief, fine feeling;
Restorative, not killing;
Those gentle, soothing, meek...
Until drops smashing brick

He's caught man unawares
And flung life downstairs!
The Verbal God, Lord Logos.
Tis living thing, not bogus!
O, wisps of dust, we're all do slave
From babbling cradle to dumb grave

To Jaggernaut, Verbal God,
The fierce, and yet fairy Word!