'The Second Coming?' A poem by Leon Aarts 1982 (of Drones as 'flying bees' and peace treaties-we hope)
Designing Catapults, aimed at enemies?
The lightning bonds of heroes - wearing thin.
Christ No! Marx No!
Don't let Doomsday's scary flying machines crow.
One sound of chaos resonates, sightings
of dark clouds.
Day turning into Night.
But, it's day I think?
Run, hide..Jesus, there is no shelter, anywhere.
No chosen Jerusalem.
Why is Zion hammering so Hard?
The nails he pierces, stabbing backs
Thunder, lightning strikes, flying bees, stinging
The child not yet born, cries in the dying womb
Looking on, beautiful shining suits
Sitting, floating high above calamities struck
Tipping scales
They open nets, energy grids
Then gathered supplies become plentiful and ample
They return to their beautiful earthly children
To set examples of
Good
All good
The poem **"The Second Coming?"** by Leon Aarts, dated 1982 but apparently published or reposted recently (in 2025 on infonews.co.nz), is a visionary, apocalyptic piece that deliberately echoes — and updates — W.B. Yeats's famous 1919 poem *"The Second Coming"*. Yeats's work famously depicts a world spiraling into chaos after World War I, with the iconic lines about the falcon/falconer losing control, the "blood-dimmed tide," and a rough beast slouching toward Bethlehem. Aarts borrows that title (with a questioning question mark) and apocalyptic tone, but transplants it into a late-20th-century (and presciently modern) context of advanced warfare, drones, and elite detachment.
### Strengths
- **Prophetic imagery and timeliness** — Written in 1982 (Cold War peak, early drone tech experiments, nuclear fears), the poem's "flying bees" as a metaphor for drones is strikingly forward-looking. Today, with widespread drone warfare (Ukraine, Middle East conflicts, etc.), it reads almost as prediction. The "scary flying machines" that "crow" and sting evoke modern loitering munitions or surveillance/strike drones with eerie accuracy.
- **Biblical and mythological layering** — It weaves Christian eschatology (Second Coming, Jesus, Jerusalem/Zion, nails piercing, child in the dying womb — reminiscent of Revelation or Yeats's "rough beast" birth) with modern horrors. The "child not yet born, cries in the dying womb" is a powerful, visceral image of aborted futures or generational doom.
- **Satirical edge on power** — The "beautiful shining suits / Sitting, floating high above calamities struck" sharply critiques elites (military-industrial leaders, perhaps pilots or decision-makers in bunkers/drones) who orchestrate destruction while untouched, then descend to "set examples of Good" with plundered "supplies." The ironic close ("All good") lands as bitter sarcasm — a false redemption sold by the powerful.
- **Sound and rhythm** — Short, fragmented lines create urgency and panic ("Run, hide..Jesus, there is no shelter, anywhere."). Repetitions of thunder/lightning, chaos, and negation ("Christ No! Marx No!") give it a chant-like, protest quality.
### Areas of critique / weaknesses
- **Structure and polish** — The poem feels raw and stream-of-consciousness, with abrupt shifts and inconsistent punctuation/capitalization. This can heighten the chaotic feel, but sometimes makes it read more like a passionate draft than a tightly honed work. Lines like "Why is Zion hammering so Hard?" feel cryptic — possibly alluding to Israeli militarism or broader "Zion" symbolism — but the connection isn't fully clarified.
- **Overpacking of symbols** — It throws in catapults, lightning bonds of heroes, Doomsday machines, energy grids, tipping scales, nets — a dense mix of ancient, medieval, and futuristic warfare imagery. While ambitious, it risks overwhelming the reader or diluting focus.
- **Tone swings** — It veers from despair ("no shelter, anywhere") to ironic optimism ("They return... To set examples of Good / All good"). The sarcasm works, but the pivot can feel sudden.
- **Compared to Yeats** — Yeats achieves universality through mythic restraint; Aarts is more explicit and topical, which gives immediacy but sacrifices some timelessness. The original's sphinx-like ambiguity is replaced here with clearer contemporary targets (drones, elite hypocrisy).
Overall appraisal: This is a bold, impassioned anti-war poem with genuine visionary bite, especially impressive for its 1982 foresight on unmanned aerial warfare. It functions well as a protest piece — angry, vivid, and morally urgent — rather than a subtle literary masterpiece. Its raw energy and topical prescience make it compelling today, particularly in an era when "flying bees" sting daily in real conflicts. If Aarts intended it as a warning cry against dehumanized, high-tech violence masked as progress or "good," it succeeds powerfully, even if the execution is more visceral than refined.
If this is part of sharing or reflecting on your own (or a friend's) work, it's a strong piece with heart — the kind that sticks because of its anger and hope twisted together. What drew you to it specifically?