The Cantos of Prejudice: Let them come back [please confute me]

Ticking old clocks, imperiously Tackling minds;

ancient bombs, as forgotten heathen relics,

hide their megatons in jars,

for no more flashing Mushrooms - deadly cream in Our air,

for no more crazy aeroplanes in comets wounding the sky,

for no more Strangers praying their God with prayers of blood,

for no more diseases for human chickens

WE do not need bombs - No more, THEY told us

WE do not need to fear someone else – No more, THEY told us

WE do not need to hear Jerusalem bells,

yelling from the straight, turned on a lathe, horizon – No more, THEY told us

THEY do not need bombs – THEY have others

THEY do not need to fear us from someone ELSE - THEY are fearing US from US

THEY do not need to yell Jerusalem bells – THEY just need gentle calm marble words,

whistled in thunders by a new Farinata degli Uberti in tie.

Money on money trills on the dark grass, surface of the streets,

green fields, cuddled into plastic embraces

Marias in indigo stoles, packed in smoky shrines in abandoned museums ...

the crazy Poet of wisdom used to pontificate:

With Usura

hath no man a painted paradise on his church wall
harpes et luthes
or where virgin receiveth message
and halo projects from incision”

Let them come back in their giant of diagrams of shining diamonds

Let them come back in their silky stoles

Let them come back waving the new-ancient heathen brochard “1000 nothing more than 1000”

Let them come back, praying for their help

Let them come back and offer the best of your knowledge, history, art, time and work

Do not fight - hate - destroy, just sit back and watch in silence the calm storm of Your mind

[thank you Mr. Pound]