Another Super-Hero Poem
Who is hero
In a world where
Last is first
And the greatest
Serves?
Who’s identity truly
Is secret?
His super suit
Is blue
A dirty Dickies one-piece
With his name embroidered-
No-
Emblazoned
Above the pocket
Maybe he doesn’t spend his nights
Mopping vomit
In that old
Elementary school
Maybe his broom flies
And he cleans the streets
Of villains and bad guys
And what a surprise
If she
Were a super hero
One with the elements
She breathes
Fire and screams
Wind
Earth covers her dead parts
And dirties her dress
Like soiled sheets
Of a hundred thousand beds
Could water make her clean again?
Maybe her noseIs so
Red
From all that fire breathing she does
Consuming adversaries
Of truth
And Justice
Perhaps old people
Aren’t really confined to homes
It could all be a hoax
So enemies of humanity don’t
Sense their strength
Or know
Their knowledge
While the world sleeps
Wheelchairs go 400 miles per hour
Amphibious attack vehicles
Sort of James Bond style
They sport
Top-secret prosthetics
Made by mad scientists
In underground government labs
Maybe they move like lightning
With their mech-appendages
And go by names like
Robot-Boy and
Electro-girl
They fake the shakes of disease
Feign the confusion
Of senility
So they don’t blow their cover
Little children
Might be the most mighty
Of the secret-supers
The anti-evil
With minds powered by
Naivety and pure
Un-perverted laughter
Wicked ones flee from the laser light
Of innocent eyes
I can see the Metropolitan
Headlines now
"Janitor,
Elder,
Child,
And Whore
Form Fantastic Foursome
And stop clan
Of evil ninjas
Set on world domination”
That world
Where last come first
Is probably villianless
Lacking crime
And its’ resultant
Death
Pain
And crying
The peace of that kingdom
Is kept constantly
By the King who
Saved every day
By
Sacrifice
Of super strength
Becoming
Weak
He commands
All would-be
Heroes to do the same
To love
To become
Like kids
Like untouchables
Like the poor
Like the least
posted by Matt @ 3:36 PM
2 Comments:
At 8/23/2005 1:55 PM,
Matt said…
This was also written for superhero night at Mic Check.
The picture at the bottom of the poem is from a flyer for a protest rally that happened in Washington D.C.
I've been reading through the gospel according to Matthew. The more I read Christ's story, the more I see how crazy His words are. His kingdom is truly contrary to this world.
In chapter 21 He is getting onto the Pharisees about their hypocrisy. He juxtaposes their responsiveness to God with that of late obeyers. He says, "Truly I say to you that the tax collectors and prostitutes will get into the kingdom of God before you."
In Matthew chapter 18, Jesus says, "...unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."
In chapter 19 He says, "Let the children alone, and do not hinder them from coming to me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."
At the end of the same chapter He says "But many who are first will be last; and the last, first."
The titans of God's kingdom seem to be a lot different than the people we usually hail as heroes.
At 9/27/2005 9:49 AM,
Anonymous said…
matty,
...this poem gave me that old Dr. Seuss motivation to sit by the lonely little fat kid at school. Only better.
krisdo
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