Home » Poems » Best » Aaron Valbusa » Best Aaron Valbusa Poems

Best Poems Written by Aaron Valbusa

Below are the all-time best Aaron Valbusa poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Aaron Valbusa Poem

Sacrificial Offerings

Those given to Odin swung from trees with blackened face,
whilst Kali’s servants strangled those they sent to her embrace
The people of the sun tore beating hearts out on their altars,
for the sacrificial procession through the ages never falters

We shake our heads and ponder the barbarity of man
and question any gods who ask for death within their plan,
yet none has spilt more blood, nor cried as loud with their demands
as the god of greed and privilege whose disciples run these lands

Sent to meet their makers through the medium of war
we find these sacrificial victims bombs have blown, and bullets tore,
offered up to fill the vaults of these extremists and fanatics,
sacrifice disguised through slippery verbal acrobatics

They’re drowned when vessels sink, sent down to Poseidon’s watery tomb,
for the silverware some suckle leaves a thousand without spoons,
and the gamble between a leaky boat and a slow death through despair
is one that more will make whilst prophets preach of taking others share

Starved in slums, or worked to death in roles of servitude,
Illness without medicine and bellies without food,
victims of these economic modern day Crusades,
where the armour’s turned to suits, and the pen’s more deadly than the blades     

Don’t let the veneer of civilisation hide the brute that lurks beneath,
for the sword still spills the blood no matter how fancy the sheath,
and the god whose sway we’re under is as brutal as his kin,
growing fat upon the sacrifice the system builds within, 
and the high priests of the Dollar Gods ensure the victim bleeds,
as they bow down in Wall Street temples to appease the Markets needs

Details | Aaron Valbusa Poem

Forgetting the World Outside the Tent

Facts were sacked and positions made vacant for speculative trends, 

evidence slowly cleared its desk, a victim of gossips truthful cleanse,

Rags stuffed full of fiction masquerading as hard facts, 

our logic and understanding at its root suffers attacks,

building shaky foundations for the bricks are made of foam,

and when cerebral dwellings fall in realities rubble we will roam 

 

Yet what grieves me more than storytellers disguised within truths scent 

is that this focus on bread and circuses removes the world outside the tent

Details | Aaron Valbusa Poem

The Vanished of Guantanamo

Restrained with bands of leather, bound and rigid in the chair, 

the feeding tube thrust lower, every inch brings fresh despair, 

gagging, coughing, choking on the burn from nose to chest  

as they force life into the ones whose lives they’ve stolen and oppressed 

 

Lost in a black hole of ever shifting definitions,

bound within semantics after abduction via rendition,

disappeared within a system built on shadows and denial,

indefinite incarceration handed down without a trial     

 

Snared with nets woven of gold, not built on evidence,

thieves that dealt in lives, and joined with governments to fence, 

stealing days and weeks at first, then onto months and years,

sacrificial offerings to assuage the first worlds fears          

 

Like some chain link Salem the hunt was on for those to burn,

for the people need their demons and the Others need to learn

their place within the caste system of the dollars global nation,

built upon rigged ratios with most left from the equation        

 

Hearts held locked in darkness as their faces slowly fade,

children grow unseen, and countless memories unmade 

Innocence acknowledged still won’t see their freedom found,

for innocence means nothing in a world that’s gagged and bound

Details | Aaron Valbusa Poem

The Rot Within the Cross

The churches walls are crumbling for there’s rot in its foundations,
a guiding light grown dim through shadows cast by foul temptations,
the journey of a soul’s been lost to vanity and greed
and when the tongue of the divine grows forked the truth shall soon secede  

The empty spaces left where changers had plied their trade in coins
made way for darker business more concerned with youth and loins,
and the same who preach condemnation for real love between grown men 
have shown the rights of paedophiles are now a duty to defend 

A name and reputation now given more value than a flock,
yet both are falling ever further with every ticking of the clock,
shielding wolves from harm as they prey viciously on lambs,
it seems the spirit has grown stagnant for its sources have been dammed 

Misogyny, intolerance and righteous condemnation
are the fruits the tree has born within your garden of creation,
and the serpent hitched a ride with whispers mistaken for the Word,
and sweeping filth under the rug it seems is the cleaning that’s preferred

Details | Aaron Valbusa Poem

Nuremberg's Dead and Buried

The jackboots twitched suspended as they swayed upon the rope,

a sentence passed for hatred bred so shocking in its scope 

a stolen Sanskrit symbol used to purge what’s deemed unclean, 

the violent birth of safeguards passed to halt these acts obscene 

 

As the seasons passed it seems the attack dog’s lost its teeth,

barking at the shadows cast by the one holding its leash,

the principles that once adorned the collar round its neck

have faded now to naught, along with its duty to protect 

 

And so another power goosesteps straight into history,

wardens of the global capitalist penitentiary,

launching wars of aggression based on lies and spurious fact

using freedom as a pretence for the stock markets attack,

radiating countries as they condemn what they have sold,

denying millions futures so that the few can hoard their gold,

modern Christian crusades against those found in Allah’s fold,

a legacy of fragmentation whose ultimate damage is untold.

 

Where’s the condemnation of these principles violation ?

Where’s the courts indictment of the leaders of this nation ?

Where’s the trial to prove that justice has not been gagged and bound ? 

And where’s the judgement, that once passed, will see a strong branch found ?

Details | Aaron Valbusa Poem

The Man In God

The walls that house the faithful are destroyed and clothed in flames

in these sectarian disputes over validity of claims 

The journey of a soul hijacked by the mentality of the herd,

a million petty voices being mistaken for the Word 

 

The fallacy of translation born for a message meant for one, 

the word of god so tainted when spoken through human tongue 

Placing their own faces on their image of the lord,

forgiveness turned to fire, and the book into the sword  

 

Gilding what is precious brings the thieves into your house, 

bringing lip service to devotion, the empty words of an unfaithful spouse

Lusting for the power that your station should condemn,

subverting brotherhood to nothing more than the clash of us and them 

 

The problems not the faith that carries, but the shoes with which it’s shod,

and the problems not the god in man, it’s the man that’s found in god

Details | Aaron Valbusa Poem

The Bankers of Terror

The heart of fundamentalism beats in desert sands 

pumping hate and cash through veins to limbs in many lands,

bringing life and means to hands who long for fire and chains,

a lust for killing stories till a single narrative remains 

 

A country built on gold as black as the deeds that it enables,

where womens rights are just a dream, and the human kind a fable,

of rampant migrant slavery built on economic exploitation,

the keepers of the Ka’aba and the narrowest interpretation   

 

No brotherhood of faith when disagreement draws fresh blood

and when the blade argues over the tongue you’re soon lost in the flood

of bitter retribution, of revenge on faceless foes,

of targets drawn through worship and a rift that will not close     

 

Funding bombs and beheadings to further divide and separate,

a xenophobic attitude of difference viewed through hate,

of pious pawns and dreams of Caliphates on bloodstained squares

whilst the innocent are slaughtered and Muhammad’s ghost despairs