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 Poetry of Damian Balassone

 

Masada, Israel

Introduction

 

My poems have appeared in about 30 Australian publications, but  I have always felt compelled to write about the people, history and beauty of Israel. 

 


 

The Fall of Masada

 

Hush! Masada your time has come,

The Romans besiege the fortress town,

Soon they will penetrate the walls,

The courageous Zealot is going down.

 

They say Jerusalem lies in ruins,

But here on this rock above the sea

The Roman legion is in for a shock:

The Jew will never bow down to thee.

           

The Judean desert cries out to Rome:

“We will not feed your pagan pride,

Rather than surrender to Caesar’s throne,

We will surrender to suicide.”


 

I, Nebuchadnezzar

 

1

I, Nebuchadnezzar, looked for magic in works of art,

All the while neglecting the truth inside my heart.

 

2

I, Nebuchadnezzar, was oblivious to God’s plan,

And proudly thought my kingdom was the work of my own hand.

 

3

I, Nebuchadnezzar, was laid low by the Lord,

And sentenced to seven years of intellectual discord.

 

4

I was driven into exile at the sound of Yahweh’s word,

And grew feathers like an eagle and claws like a bird.

 

5

I ate grass like cattle and was drenched with heaven’s dew,

After seven senseless years my sanity was renewed.

 

6

And when my mind returned to me, I looked up to the sky,

Glorifying Daniel’s God, praising the Most High.

 

7

I, Nebuchadnezzar, was restored unto my throne,

And all throughout Babylon my humble heart is known.

 

 

The Poet-Prophet-King Wept

 

The poet-prophet-king wept

when told of his son’s death,

he tore his clothes, and held his heart

and cried with all his breath:

 

“Absalom, oh, Absalom!

My poor misguided son

who saw glory in my crown

and wished to be the one

to lead Judah into battle,

to acquire the praise of men,

I would gladly give my life

to have you back again.”

 

 

The Hour When Darkness Reigns

 

And when it all finished, the sun disappeared,

and the moon did not emit light,

the stars came tumbling from heaven,

an earthquake rumbled in the night,

the veil of the temple was torn asunder,

a Roman centurion confessed in the thunder.

 

The Pulpit and the Parapet

 

Once I stood on the parapet

and looked out over the crowd,

            wine in my hand,

            women at my command,

I stood tall, mighty and proud.

 

Now I stand before a pulpit

and sing these songs of praise,

            shaking my tambourine,

            surrendering to the unseen,

I no longer count the days.

 

 

Jeremiah’s Lament for Josiah

 

            Then Jeremiah chanted a lament for Josiah.

              – 2 Chronicles 35:25

 

Weep for Josiah! He is dead,

the child-king has been killed,

and Judah could go to the grave,

the promise unfulfilled,

And precious Zion stands condemned,

Who will save Jerusalem?

           

Josiah, the resilient king

who overcame the odds,

and led us back to Je-ho-vah,

and trampled pagan gods,

Oh people hear my lamentation:

Who will heal this broken nation?

 

Josiah, who reformed our land

and strictly kept the Law,

Josiah, the courageous king

who led us out to war,

Once a promised land for slaves

is now a mass of tombless graves.

 

Weep for Josiah! He is dead,

the child-king has been slain,

the Egyptian king has murdered him

upon Megiddo’s plains,

And precious Zion stands condemned,

Who will save Jerusalem?

 


Email Damian!


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