the angel’s confession (20170722)

i have hated you
–the angel says–
from the moment
of your creation

so weak and powerless
can’t fly
can’t sing
you call that sound
you make singing
but it’s only noise

my gears are polished silver, gold,
my skin translucent pearl
i breathe fire
but can bring forth flowers
by kissing the earth

you are trapped in your meat
and your blood
giving birth in terror
and agony to terrors and

did you know
your screaming
is the only thing
approaching communication
with the divine
that’s the real song
he wants to hear

you were never meant
for paradise
you were built to suffer
because misery loves
company and
the stony ground
was always your final

30 thoughts on “the angel’s confession (20170722)”

  1. God, angels have egos the size of Trump’s ass! Ha. I can actually see this happening with the holier than tho attitudes many angels harbor.

  2. Which angel? 🙂 I suspect, knowing crows the way I do, that there is more than meets the eye, the ear, the nose here. A sulfurous tone, brimming with fire and spite. Good one!

      1. Is that why you wrote this poem? Because of the wings? Just curious. I have no angelic agenda. …see? No wings! 🙂

      2. No. Not really about the wings. But I do have a weird interest in angels, not your run-of-the-mill interest. I have a few older poems about them, too.

  3. Reminds me of Rilke’s angels, “…But if the archangel now, perilous, from behind the stars took even one step down toward us: our own heart, beating higher and higher, would beat us to death…” (Duino Elegies, The Second Elegy – translated by Stephen Mitchell)

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