Thursday, November 8, 2007

The Lost Book of Isaiah

The Lord looked down on Is-ra-el,
And sought his favourite prophet.
He found him sitting on a well,
And promptly pushed him off it.

“Get off thy arse and spread the Word!”
The Lord said to Isaiah,
“Tell my people you have heard
About the new Messiah.”

Isaiah blinked and scratched his head,
And said with some impatience,
“Could you repeat what you’ve just said,
O Lord of kings and nations?
What exactly should I say
When people do enquire
About what you have said today,
About the new Messiah?”
“Listen up,” the Lord replied,
“And fetch thy scroll and biro.
This Holy Land is long and wide,
From Lebanon to Cairo.
But one will come from far away,
Born in the Land of Ire,
And even men with feet of clay
Will worship the Messiah.

‘Way up in the firmament,
His star will shine with brightness,
Yet in his cruciate ligament,
There’ll be a certain tightness.
He’ll have the jawbone of an ass,
A belly full of fire.
Simply in a different class,
You’ll know the new Messiah.

‘He’ll come unto an island where
The playing fields aren’t level,
And in the spotlight’s blinding glare,
He’ll battle with the Devil.
And under pressure and duress,
He’ll stubbornly retire,
And walk into the Wilderness,
An absentee Messiah.

‘But the Devil will be routed
And be cast out by the Swiss.
The elders will be clouted
By the Book of Genesis.
The Chosen One will smoulder
With a passionate desire,
But will not roll the boulder
And proclaim Himself Messiah.

‘But in a blaze of glory,
He’ll return unto his flock,
To keep alive the story,
Though with one eye on the clock.
A host of angels up on high
Will form a heavenly choir
And sing “The Fields of Athenry”
To welcome the Messiah.

‘He’ll know exactly what to do
And set out on the trail
Of choosing his disciples to
Achieve the Holy Grail.
He’ll pull the nation from the mud,
Extract it from the mire,
Look down and proclaim it good,
This wonderful Messiah.

‘And then he’ll come to Is-ra-el,
A pilgrimage of sorts,
The scribes will congregate to tell
His feelings and his thoughts.
They’ll flock from distant Galilee,
From Bethlehem and Tyre,
A multitude will come to see
This wondrous new Messiah.

‘His enemies will be dismayed,
He’ll put them to the sword.
They’ll cower and be sore afraid,
Receiving no reward.
He’ll follow up his sacred creed,
And do what needs require,
And men will wonder, yes indeed,
At Ireland’s great Messiah.”

“This story’s long,” Isaiah frowned,
“I cannot really follow it.
And, as for spreading this around,
The people will not swallow it.
I can’t perform this act you crave,
They’ll just call me a liar,
And so I’ll hide this in a cave –
So much for your Messiah!”

S’pose you’re right,” the Lord replied,
“It lacks some credibility,
Although he sitteth at my side
And has immense ability.
Okay, be off, creative vandal!
Your company is dire.
I’ll go and have a word with Handel
‘Bout the new Messiah.”
Israel 1 Ireland 1

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