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Lloyd D Graham

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Popular Poetry (Vision/Metaphysical)
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  6.  Biocentrism
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by Lloyd D Graham

Sunday, November 24, 2013
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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An ekphrasis on Dino Vallsí painting DIES IRAE.




 An ekphrasis on Dino Valls’ DIES IRAE, online at [Warning: artistic nudity]


An unusual apocalypse:

The seals of this Beatus start

With the white bow of a

Body seized by grand mal

Then a rose-mounted knight

Whose sword steals peace

Before the hunger game

Of Bergen-Belsen. Can you

Outplay the Reaper? Shāh Māt

The damsel is dead, her

Head robed in white.

Kohl dims the sun while

Red waxes lips and bloodies the moon;

Trumps tear and stars fall

As the scroll is rolled.


Woe! Woe! Woe! sound the

Trumpets of heaven,

Warning those of the body;

Balm sours in its Delft jar

As Wormwood falls.

Awaiting Abaddon

Locusts form lines.


A sinister censer shines;

Woe unto her who is with child

In the shadow of dragon, beast and whore

Ten horns rise on seven heads –

Decline and fall.

The saved are counted, the harvest home;

Vials shatter, raise the shout

Ich bin der Zorn Gottes!


The captive serpent speaks my mind

Though locked away, he has her ear:

      Unwilling daughter, fight the tears

      You cannot alter what must be;

      You have no kingdom

      No power or glory

      But yours is the look

      And behind it

      The key.








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Reviewed by Robert Whitford 11/28/2013
We can get so much from a painting, an image, a slice of what the artist was trying to express. Being a religious artist in many ways Valls work would tend to bring out these slices from a larger theme you have presented here Lloyd. You really should have put an image of the painting up on your page. I killed my computer a couple of times trying to view the image at the website. I felt I had to though, so I could comment on the content of your poem. The inevitable end will come in time and so will the earth end if it is to be so. Her face says it all. I enjoyed the reading. Bob
Reviewed by Ronald Hull 11/25/2013
As surrealistic as the portrait. I, but a simpleton, understood nothing.


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