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These Violent Delights

Lovely line walkers,

Oh, how they chant!

Disregarding all else

Their chloroformed cries

Sweet

But

Chaotic to my soul

Holding hands

They walk in a single file line

With pockets full of posies

A little girl leaves the front of the line

To come to my corner

To cheer me up

How beautiful

How meek

A kiss on the cheek

She leaves a rosy ring

She leaves to go and sing

At the back of the line shouts call

Are we there yet?!

Are we there yet?!

At the first of the line is my kissing girl

Holding a cardboard sign

Tender for tinder

It says

The end is here

..

The onlookers try to silence

The line with songs of their own

Songs of chaos

The bugles are bent

The fifes are broken

The treble is cleft in two

All to be consumed by consumption

There are cheers

And in they go

Into the bull

Into the glow

The red red

In walk the poor

The sick

The old

The lame

The useless, spineless, maimed

Into the flame

To renew the strength of the sun fire

To ra rah

To raise high

And throw fast

Sis sis

Sizzling

Boom booming

Beyond control

Into a pit of fire

….

The masses dance around in circles

Savage mobs

Feral dogs

Trying still to silence the sobs

Shouting and jeering

But the sound is still searing

They smoke souls,

And drink blood filled bowls

Bang their brothers, their mothers,

Drums and tambourines

Trying still to drown out the screams

Going back and forth

As cannibals dragging the ground

With tongues wagging

Looking and licking

For leftovers

………

Our brutal dance floor

Where hope is a swear word

Where

Workers

Are paid to build fire pits

Where

Brokers

Sell stock in fire pits

Where

Executives

Buy stock in fire pits

And fire pit related products

Where

Lawyers

Testify to the legality of fire pits

Where

Politicians

Bicker about who to throw in

And who to save

Saving none

Where

Generals

Move pins

Press buttons

And pin buttons

On lucky contenders

Where

Philosophers

With quick wit

Mock the state

And the state of affairs

Feeding only their egos

Where

Skeptical scholars

With puffy collars

Brick themselves off

With mending walls,

Ivory towers,

And absent minded mindedness

Where

Musicians and Actors

Show off as long as the show goes on

Scorning the event with forked tongues

The musician playing sharp

And the actor playing with himself

Where

Priests

Hoping to be replete

Beat gold plates

For mothers and fathers

To drown the wails

Of sons and daughters

Where

Poets

Are in the only dark corner

Pale, emaciated, and weeping

With chattering teeth

And swollen knees

With long nails

On bony fingers

With bloody cheeks

And shoulders thickly covered with dust

Crying over fate

Over warfare,

Man at war,

What could I’s,

And what could have been done’s

Because of what they know

They know they must tell about it

And that is what terrifies them most

…..

The all of us hush

As bloody faces rise from the fire

Asking repeatedly why why

You living swords

You face spiters

Why why why

Then silence

A cacophony of soundlessness

…..

In the silence

When all was well and done

We all agreed that it was good

We would not cry over these violent delights

We licked the blood from our lips

It left a bad taste in our mouths

But we thought of earlier days

The spilt blood of our fathers

The milk white medicine of our mothers

It was for our own good

It left a bad taste in our mouths

But it was for our own good

We sacrificed them as we sang

For our own joyful sake

….

Amongst us

A lone survivor stands up

Stopping

Saying

Down, down, dogs!  

Down, traitors!

Hold hook and line, say I!

He cocks his finger

Points it at us

And shouts “bang!”

He then dives deep

Going down as the flames rise up

Maintaining a last integrity

…..

As the fire dies

I rub the kiss off my cheek

We all collapse in a giggling heap

Finishing our song

To ashes, to ashes

We all fall down!

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2 responses to “These Violent Delights

  1. Incredible.

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