There have been apocalyptic Christians somewhere in my life as far back as I can remember. These folks love to reflect on the signs of the end-times and such. Yet every sign reflected upon, I eventually came to realize, has been going on not only since the death of Christ, but clear back to the origins of man. This stuff might even be universal to sentience, wherever its manifests.
So I got to thinking on the sheer sophistry of apocalyptic prophesy—It just can’t work if it’s going to focus solely on earthly and celestial changes and humanity’s tendency to make really bad decisions, for this has all been going on as far back as human records reflect. If a prophecy is going to hold any water at all, it has to be entirely specific, and concrete—none of this wishy-washy, highly interpretable, metaphoric stuff.
So I got to thinking about it further, and ended up writing this poem, my 10th hybridanelle. I studied the types of prophecy commonly focused upon—around ten—and ultimately came to dedicate about one stanza to each of them. These were: Wars and rumors of wars; Apostasy; Earthquakes; Famines; “Fearful events”; Lawlessness; Persecution; Plagues; Celestial signs; and False messiahs and/or prophets. Stuff that has been going on since time immemorial.
The indentational scheme is intended to create the effect of reading bits of unraveled scroll.
The Sophistry of Prophecy
when was there never famine, never war,
no bloody battles fought for real estate
with every nation harmonized in peace?
when have the heavens paused like polished stone,
motionless across the fields of space,
to pass a single year without a sign?
what season never yielded plague nor blight,
with all the divers cultures steeped in bounty,
no bloody battles fought for real estate?
what age has seen the quaking earth hold still,
her ever-changing contours locked in place?
when have the heavens paused like polished stone?
which hour never saw men gaunt with hunger
nor ever shook men from their chosen path,
with all the divers cultures steeped in bounty?
when have conditions failed to vex the soul,
and terrors slept enchanted with the grace
to pass a single year without a sign?
what creed has never suffered purblind wrath,
nor punished those who hold a different faith,
nor ever shook men from their chosen path?
where has the climate never loosed a storm?
what river never leapt beyond its base?
when have the heavens paused like polished stone?
what people never felt the touch of crime,
no greed nor malice wasting human hearts,
nor punished those who hold a different faith?
when have diviners ever granted sway,
allowing humankind some minor space
to pass a single year without a sign?
since time began to crumble written thoughts,
when was there never famine, never war,
no greed nor malice wasting human hearts,
with every nation harmonized in peace?
was there a time impostors never sought
to stage themselves as some important face?
when have the heavens paused like polished stone,
to pass a single year without a sign?
