We Need New Gods: deibhidhe
The end nears: the sharp sword dulls.
Its slices seem less useful,
the elegant, diamond edged glance
of its dark dance less fancy.
Though its blue blade is well-scarred,
these wounds seem slight from afar;
there are just two that make it
useless, unfit for gambit.
Toward the tip, the first flaw:
result of a reckless draw;
the hilt, where some blood was spilt
has lost gilt and needs rebuilt.
But such a sword it once was,
for noble knights in the cause
of laws and learning, sacred stuff
that bade us bluff, in the rough
where blades meant business was done
by the strong and those who run
them, son. How soon we forget,
and quickly let a prize pet,
who we think so meek and mild,
assume control and loose wild
a chaos child that just kills
and cannot still its ire’s will.
We must end this mad worship:
the steel, the spoils and kingship;
to strip the sword of its might.
We start tonight, while there’s light.
13 DEC 2012
06.18.05
The Neighborhood from Otherhood
NEIGHBORHOOD:
Lissen up, lissen up, I got a story to tell
It might sell, it might not; if it don’t, then oh well
but I’ll get right to it, make it understood:
I’m your low-down, funky home neighborhood.
Think somethin’s goin’ on? Hell, I’ve been thinkin’ for years,
and I’ll be sittin’ right here when the last smoke clears.
Get the point? I know every inch of this joint,
and every king of the hill you’ve ever tried to annoint.
You end up disappointed and ya’ll come back here,
thinkin’ you got the only definition of fear
but I was right here waiting, anticipating your hatin’,
race-baitin’, matin’, creatin’ and disintegratin’.
Lissen up, lissen up, now I’ll say it again:
close up your mind against change, and you ain’t got no friends.
Push comes to shove, and you know how the story ends
somebody dies; and it starts all over again.
So here’s the story of a brother and an other:
two boys growin’ up thinkin’ they hated each other.
Who is the pusher, and who is the shover?
Just sit back and listen, and you might discover
somethin’ real, somethin’ to make you feel,
somethin’ as hard as steel; but hold out ’til the final reel
before makin’ your judgments about right or wrong
and judge the singers by the words of the songs;
because who is the weak, and who is the strong
when the river’s still flowing, but the mountain is gone?
1992
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Let Those Who Would Reform
Let those who would reform the world desist
their feeble mewlings at the citadel
that those they choose to fight built to resist
more legions than the gods themselves could quell.
Let others beat to useless, bloody shreds
their fist-clenched hands against that firm defense,
with dreams of victory to fill their heads
in vain attempt to breach its competence.
What good is it to use the self-same tools
that those would enslave have honed so fine?
What use an end achieved, if the same rules
we claim our foes have bent, we break to climb?
Let those who would upset the status quo
seek first to change the sameness found within
that would by smoke and mirrors try to show
a better cause, or one more fair, should win.
Let others claw and scrape that would behold
outside themselves, a world less prone to pain,
where right always prevails, warm comes from cold,
and sunny days require no spells of rain.
What good are dreams that do not change the self,
that would with mere illusions seek to please,
their promise a slight shift in fleeting wealth
or kneeling pads to those still on their knees?
Let those who would reform the world begin
their revolution from a different spot:
instead of struggle to get what you want,
appreciate a bit of what you’ve got.
Let others take the parapets by storm,
their banners bright and bold against the flame;
For me, such revolutions don’t perform.
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
12 APR 2005
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War and Peace
If you are angry about violence,
hate the war-mongers who destroy and kill,
use guilt as a weapon for innocence,
you may think to win, but you never will.
Because these tools that you use are the same
that you rally against. To shout speeches
filled full with such rage is to play the game
you claim to despise. For true peace preaches
to end all vitriol and harsh attack:
an absence of malice against perceived
enemies; its purpose is to give back –
not belittle or shame. You are deceived
if you think fighting changes the system;
all it does is make you look just like “them”.
23 JUL 2003
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Violence
True power isn’t intimidation
nor does it manifest itself by fear;
lashing out doesn’t help a situation,
nor make a solution any more clear.
Might has never really made a cause right,
only forced gentler souls to be slaves
and pushed trust and reason far out of sight.
It is no great thing, yet we name brutes brave
who resist tender feelings and can strike
without mercy or any sense of shame.
If they can dominate, hold all the cards,
then we cower as they take what they like,
never holding our own culture to blame
while we build more prisons and new graveyards.
08 MAR 2003
for LJ user nutmeggie
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