ぼくが最近出したメールを受けた米国の友人が、2007年の7月の7日の7時7分に
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NUMEROLOGY

Numerology, psychology, astrology,
Astronomy, alchemy, surety.
How the brain works overtime
To understand what someday might be.

The Romans believed that the Larger
Should rightfully precede the Lesser.
It was part of the natural order
Each thing in its best place, and proper.

Allowing the smaller to go first was bad
It showed weakness, it led one to think
Impending victory might not be had,
With largesse and largest surely to shrink.

"VI", "VII", "VIII"
Greater and greater these Roman Numerals be,
"IV" is a needle, stuck in the arm of a soldier,
On life-support, intravenously.

The Romans, in their March of Glory,
Swords crushing all those who would resist,
This decimating mightiness feared Zero,
Pretending that it could not exist.

Two Thousand Years later,
Our leaders make the same mistake.
Believing too much in Empire, never looking
At those from whom we take.

In the Jewish Faith, Nine was a holy number,
Three by Three, a sign of Family,
Mother, Father, a Child coming
Together forming a Holy Community.

Now 11:59 and 59 seconds, Year of 1999,
This fullness of form, like the greatest of heroes
Falls on itself, in a Yin-Yang circling
Collapsing to the frightful 00:00:00 of 2000.

In what future do you believe?
What brings these Leaders of this New Age?
What favors of the Gods do you foresee?
Alas, Blood and War, men bound in cages.

(January 1, 2001)

1-1-1: That was the real day on this
Calendar of Christian Charity,
First of the Millennium, what do you say is
Revealed by the mirror of history?

A most powerful family, Governor Brother,
The Righteous Court hand-picked by the Father,
A stolen election makes way, bringing
The Family Fool to hold sway with the Kings.

This turn of the cards, what future does it hide?
An Anti-Christ foreboding of evil,
Ushering in the sudden rise
Of the coming time of the Devil.

Who are these just mortal men
That drive stakes into the Earth, they do
Acting as if their orders are God-given,
They are merely rulers of the black ooze.

Like stabs into an artery,
Gushing forth blood and blame,
They collect the wanton liquid
And then throw it back in flames.

Smoke-filled infernos reign.
Fire and missiles strike.
In downed monuments, once high.
Life drains out with the crash.
All gets reduced to primordial ash.


(February 2, 2002)

2-2-2: Silence at Ground Zero.
The brain is tortured by the quiet
The psyche is shocked by the stillness.
A hand is pushed beyond the boundary.

Numbness and shock overflow
The heart and reason.
Vengeance overcomes
Compassion for the souls.

(March 3, 2003)

3-3-3: The Eagle rises, the sun is shining
The day is cloudless and clear.
It looks majestic on its first flight
Soaring into the wind, then it disappears.

Becoming so tiny, almost forgotten,
It folds into a speck that is
Barely visible on the horizon
We wave a handkerchief at the passing
Of soldiers suddenly on parade
Never knowing where they’re going.

What is that small dot in the distance?
Slowly growing with speed, intently staring,
It’s Hellfire from afar that quietly stalks you,
Until silent death reveals its looming.

The Eagle Inhuman, like a great dinosaur,
It spreads its immense wings outward,
Covering the ground in shadow.

Atop the new-found darkness,
This ominous creation
Drops its precious cargo.
Silvery capsules of annihilation.


(April 4, 2004)

4-4-4: The war drags on, day by day
Body-parts flung all over the road
Like so much useless confetti
Leftover from the parade.

Great flanks of soldiers
Green waves in camouflage uniform
Over the hot yellow desert they bloom
Like pesky weeds nourished
By wind-whipped sandstorms
And the gritty greed of men.

Life-giving white clouds of water give way
To death-dealing clouds, they are replaced,
While great news of great progress meets
Great piles of corpses rotting in the heat.


(May 5, 2005)

5-5-5: The pentagram of witches.
The pentagon of forms.
Papers shuffled by crisp starched generals
Their shoulders stuffed with stars
As if anointed by the Heavens
To which allegiance they have sworn.

Their tall posture belies the truth
Their eyes, dulled and shrunken
To a narrow squint of lost innocence,
Their jaws, squared and stiffened
By service to the Harpy of Death.

In this world, where does Heaven be?
How can the stars of the sky sit back so idly
While boots on the ground
Bring nothing but an assault of chaos?

How can one stop this idiocy?
Where a turn of the foot is treasonous,
And a twitch of the finger
Thunders into vaporizing explosiveness.


(June 6, 2006)

6-6-6: The Devil's number rules supreme
Presiding over an illusion
Where nothing is ever as it seems.

This number always commemorates
Another day of horror, celebrating
Guns forever blazing in a world of war.

People nudged to the edge of insanity
Ripped from the fabric of humanity
Words inciting a lusting for money
Trusting in power, extolling in vanity.

Lost is a desire for warmth and gentleness,
A kindling of friendship, a desire for love,
And the healing touch of kindness.


World of ruin. Earth in waste.
Devil arising. Devil incarnate.
War and gore. Impending doom.

Quietly you sit in an air-conditioned room,
On and off, images flicker from afar,
Switching back and forth
Between blackness
And being engulfed in flames.

A small annoyance, like a door ajar,
Your mind retreats into a comfort zone
So that your eyes do not see
And your brain does not conceive
What horrors are being done in your name.


(July 7, 2007)

7-7-7: And so on the Seventh Day
God rested from his Great Work.
He looked around and saw what he had done
And thought that it was Good.

The polar ice cap melts.
Great glaciers calve into the water
Blue icebergs float down the stream.

Tourists giggle from a cruise boat
As a polar bear paws at an ice floe,
The arctic ground sogs beneath her.

Soon she will disappear, a glimmer
Drowned by seas invading all over,
A forgotten footnote at best,
In the rising tide of progress.

Do not talk of these things say our leaders,
They are musings of the short-sighted.
Have another McDonald's hamburger
And believe that everything's all right.


07 July 2007
© 2007 by John Doe
For MoveOn.org