Poetry Wars - The Open Section Strikes Back

The track beside the road leading to Mount Salvation
is festooned with wildflowers,
white, pink and purple,
they are invisible to the
Gods in their chariots.

In the Chapel at Mount Salvation
the Gods gathered to defend orthodoxy
and to ensure the potency of their prayers.

An aura of authority hung over proceedings,
for the Gods were secure in their power and wisdom.

And lo! The Gods looked upon the lesser angels
and saw that the quality of their prayer inadequate,
they decreed that workshop was the mantra
which should be uttered,
for prayer came not from inner being
but from the training and patronage of the Gods.

The Gods were jealous of their power.
They saw that the great mass of angels
ignored their exquisitely crafted prayers,
that their prayers were considered irrelevent and boring,
that their hallowed words would be drowned
in a sea of unauthorised prayer,
and yea verily,
they may even be divorced from the life-giving manna
of the Australia Council Tree,
and with this the Gods were sorely troubled,
for how could they be divine
if all were divine?

So the Gods gathered their attributes,
raised their aspects,
and thundered from the heights of Salvation Mount;

"Whosoever challengeth the wisdom and infinitely greater
artistic merit of the Gods hall be cast
from the hallowed precincts of Penguin,
and languish forever in the purgatory of self-publishing."

And the lesser angels trembled before the wrath of the Gods
and paid homage to their might,
for they remembered the fate of the Circle Ratio Angel,
and the loss of the Great Earl Angel;
even the Southern Angel was silent,
she who had once defied the Gods,
for she had one day caught fire and now feared Divine retribution.

But from the congregation of lesser angels
some brave voices challenged the Gods.

Mark Poemwriter said,
"if it were not for the Open Section Heresy
I would not be here today to witness the glory of the Gods."

And the Feather Angel spoke,
"if it were not for the Open Section Heresy
multitudes of angels would never see heaven,
would never be introduced to the power and majesty of prayer."

And amongst the lesser angels there were murmurings of agreement,
for the pride of the Gods could be insufferable,
and some thought the prayers of angels cast from heaven
greater than the prayer of those who stayed to sneer.

The abyss of insignificance began to appear preferable
to an hypocrisy of heaven,
a democracy of demons more attractive
than a tyranny of Gods.

Things began to go poorly for the Gods
until the balding, bespectacled,
Verse Vader God proclaimed;
"the construction of True Prayer is akin
to the training of a concert cellist,
involving a solid theoretical foundation and eons of practice."

And so the battle lines were drawn between
popular prayer and elite prayer,
for Verse Vader was claiming popular prayer
was not prayer at all.

But on earth mere mortals continued to
ignore the prayers of the Gods,
preferring the prayers of minstrels
who spoke directly to their hearts;
and from the heights of Mount Salvation,
in their arrogance and pride,
the Gods could not understand why.

Then infused with the spirit of the fallen angel
William McGonagall
a lesser angel prayed;

"Sometimes in a fit of fancy
I wonder what the immortal bard would think,
if through an act of necromancy
he enrolled at University.

Would he learn poetry is a refined art,
fit only for intellectuals and scholars?
That the hoi polloi have no part
and detract from aesthetic values?

Would he be puzzled by post-modern critique?
Would his lecturer be displeased?
And where would the world of literature be
if Shakespeare scored an "E"? *

But the lesser angel prayed alone,
for the Gods had all gone home.

* Apologies to Isaac Asimov for nicking his idea.