Pharisaical Display
Your careless syllable earns sudden wrath.
The Pharisee displays his righteousness.
Religious ostentation is his path.
Your careless syllable earns sudden wrath!
Instant reaction sure beats mental math.
Is his complacency delightful? Yes.
Your careless syllable earns sudden wrath?
The Pharisee displays his righteousness.
–Tom Riley
Love Justice
Mercy’s in style, but I love justice better.
Rain down your indignation on us all,
O Lord! We’re every one of us your debtor.
Mercy’s in style – but I love justice better.
The proper spirit does enforce the letter.
Lightning is beautiful, though it appall.
Mercy’s in style, but I love justice better.
Rain down your indignation on us all!
–Tom Riley
New Wine
The new wine is the wine I want to drink.
This old wine’s fashioned from the grapes of wrath:
A deadly curse is written in its ink.
The new wine is the wine I want to drink
Until it brings me fresher thoughts to think.
My feet are aching from this garden path.
The new wine is the wine I want to drink.
The old wine’s fashioned from the grapes of wrath.
–Tom Riley
Dubious Lightning
If this is
God’s wrath, why isn’t it
striking my enemies?
–Tom Riley
Photo by Philippe Donn on Pexels.com
Odium et Amor
“Nor oath nor pact Achilles plights with thee.”
—Iliad, Book 22.
As pure and spotless as Minerva’s state,
Your hatred was a model to us all.
Yes, Hector learned exactly how you hate.
On imitation, though, he couldn’t call.
Trojan excuses couldn’t make it stall,
The engine that was beating in your chest.
Ulysses’ wisdom overcame the wall—
But I still think your boundless wrath was best.
And nowadays I’m thoroughly distressed
To hear vile, gutless cowards call you brute.
What never stirred in them can know no rest.
What never grew in them can take no root.
O noble mind, your vengeance wasn’t shoddy.
I cheered when you were dragging Hector’s body.
–Tom Riley
The Wrath of Achilles
You could, of course, have let your comrade lie.
You could have gone on living in great ease.
Instead, you rose in wrath. I don’t ask why.
You could, of course, have let your comrade lie
In dust. Unmoved by Hector’s battle cry,
You could have shown restraint. This world agrees:
You could, of course, have let your comrade lie.
You could have gone in living in great ease.
–Tom Riley
Godlike Achilles
Hector thought for a moment, perhaps,
He might win. Mortal minds set such traps.
But Achilles thought not
A whole lot of such rot.
For our vain hopes, the gods are not saps.
–Tom Riley
Angry
Sometimes, guy, though you wish to spew spittle,
You must rein in your anger a little.
Though you want vengeance bad,
though you’re boundlessly mad,
God does not care one jot or one tittle.
–Tom Riley
De Ira Marissae
(for Marissa Amador)
The wrath of Mrs. Amador descends–
and all the stubborn earth recoils in dread.
The ordered orb that foes relied on ends.
They face an all-reordered orb instead.
And which of them can hope to go ahead
under the crashing thunder of her ire?
In a brief count of seven, all have fled
the atmosphere of overarching fire.
To wield such wrath myself I don’t aspire,
Marissa: in my heart, I couldn’t trust
my motives, though a condescending choir
of angels cheer me on: “You must! You must!”
You go ahead, though. I’d be terrified–
except you know I’m always on your side.
–Tom Riley
Flammeus Gladius 