Dice, the goddess of morals, asked her mother, Themis
Why there's divorce, gambling, abortion, and alcoholism?
Why should dehumanization, like a Bloodstone, beamish?
Why should knives of nemesis nip the knots of neutralism?
Cores of conscience, like collapsed castles, Themis said, crash
The self within the inner sanctum, like sand grains, is split.
Joy, peace, harmony, happiness, and self-fulfillment clash
Empathy and sympathy submit to apathy's conflict.
Demons in humans delicately dominate their domains.
As though white sheep amongst black cattle, they cudgel their brains.
Their will to do good, like delinquent house dogs, is in chains.
Blood of cutthroat competitions, to win, flows in their veins.
Honesty should guide one and all, Themis said to Dice.
Summit of self-splendidness alone will never suffice.
Half flesh, half steel, sinews and twined wire,
Begotten in the heat of half-love, tempered
By hatred and the axe, fathered by one
Who killed her mother, the male chauvinist boar
Whose eye-teeth, razor-sharp, saw through the spine,
Joy-sword in sheath. Wrought iron, blood vessels,
Bone and cable, one part conceived, the other forged
On the hard anvil where gusts of blood are seed
Of all the axeman most does fear – cast iron woman
With stanchions for a trunk, iron breastplate,
A malleable black heart, a metallic chastity belt
No man may boast of stealing and still live,
Who beats men at their own battle games,
A dab hand with the axe herself, as salty tears
And globules of mercury exude from grey glands
COLONIZATION
OF THE IMAGINATION
SPREADING ACROSS
THIS WORLD'S GREAT NATION.
IMAGINE A WORLD
WITHOUT ANY QUESTIONS.
YOU DO AS YOUR TOLD
BECAUSE OF SUGGESTIONS
NO FREEDOM OF THOUGHT
NO RIGHTS TO THINK.
CONTROL OF YOUR MIND
JUST LOST IN A BLINK.
ELIMINATION
OF THE IMAGINATION.
BETTER KNOWN
AS DEHUMANIZATION.
THE STORY OF SOCRATES
HOW HE MET HIS DEMISE.
GLOBALIST TODAY
CLAIM THEY ARE THE WISE.
IMAGINATION,
IS ESSENTIAL,
TO UNLEASH
YOUR FULL POTENTIAL.
PITUITARY GLAND
HOLDS THE KEY.
IF YOU DECIDE
YOU WANT TO BE FREE.
MATERIALIZATION
OF THE IMAGINATION.
WILL PREVENT
ELIMINATION.
LIFE IS THE ENERGY
THAT MAKES US ALIVE.
IT NEVER CEASE TO EXIST
EVEN AFTER DEMISE.
I CONTROL MY THOUGHTS
TILL MY LIFE'S FINAL HOUR.
REGARDLESS OF THOSE
WHO LAY CLAIM TO THE POWER.
Michael E. Harris
08132021
Emerging from sleep dream temerity,
his remote aurora spectral prisms
from which his wakefulness gives legerity,
from which surfaces new burgeoning aphorisms.
Truth’s contours arrayed in fluid fluency,
his morning ataraxia in the still water lake
from where his senses lose their truancy,
from where ideation sheds the opaque.
He finds repose in a moment's seclusion,
his lucid cortex in reflective possibility,
but he learns his real confirmation in inclusion,
and learns our fellowship best protects our fragility.
So quickly we imbrute each other with walls,
he knows how militarization is summoned by anxiety,
he weeps at the endless requiem protocols,
he grieves at history’s long cruel impropriety.
But he detects his promise in human need,
our struggle against forces of dehumanization,
our commission in communitarian creed,
our hope in human family realization.
Awarded second place in Poetrysoup "Grace and Solitude" rhyming poetry contest sponsored by John Hamilton.
The perverse acceptance of dehumanization
coincides with the illusion of vulnerability
Degradation underlies the prolonged process
systematically re-wiring a once skeptical public
Manufacturing receptiveness to a diminished existence
is the prevailing goal
The need for coercion dissipates as resistance vanishes
Turning imprisonment into an implied circumstance
Schoolyard Politics
Schoolyard politics' basic training began in grade school,
Escalated in middle, and by high school reigned supreme.
What should have been a pruning ground for civility and
Respect, now clutters "the road less traveled" with rhetoric,
Dehumanization, and narcissism. No honour.
No exhibition of professed love for, "...God's own image...",
(Of which all humans were made, regardless of their beliefs,
Or skin colour). Would it not be better to find something
Positive...something good, and truthful about another,
Rather than to continue the bullying cycle of
Childhood, grade school mentality, where love was first strangled?
Life's not: "all about me". It's us. And we, can "change our stars"!
3.24.2017©deborah burch
Form: Blank Verse
Notes:
1- "the road less traveled" ---from Robert Frost's poem of same title
2- "...God's own image..." ---Holy Bible
Genesis 1:26-27
3-"...change our stars..." ---" A Knight's Tale- starring Heath Ledger
(about changing one's destiny regardless of circumstances)
Path To Dehumanization
Indifference being the height of inhumanity
Brings us to the loathsome solo sounds of children
In tears with fear and fleeing foreign lands to nowhere
People thinking, that’s not me. It’s a TV show
There’s nothing I can do
So moving on
Desensitized, we watch the news in silent isolation
So much violence becomes the common place
Numbed by too much information, we become complacent
Displaced children and humanity is not our job
Being human is a full time occupation
No one said life would be easy
We live a life but not one worth living for
What was once our reason to feel alive
Is now detachment, compromised, hanging in the void
If being a rock or stone was vogue
Replacing feelings
We could move to that location, that environment to feed the cold
It’s so easy to fit that mold
While children feed their hunger with silent tears
Soulless, waiting for a touch, and feel of peace
No hope, no soup, no refuge and no you
Empty is the void if you can’t feel
Indifference is the height of inhumanity
That fills in the holes of history, hungry, looking for some empathy
Centuries of lies, a hollow myth
Perpetuated by charlatans with great ceremony
The Greatest Show, the living bread
The crowd sustained and animated by necromancy
The will is fused, the body dismembered and reassembled
Eager dehumanization, they tread the path
An ancient instinct, hereditary chains
Lift the chalice, a cannibal rite
Commit the body to the fires
They burn all sin to purest white
Like bones they glisten in the sun
The heart is woman, a harlot's course
Chaos bound to ritual law
A book to strangle, the human vine
Withered fruit, none shall eat
A brittle parody of True God's design
The Word of sufferance, spread like plague
Prostrated before your False God
An empty gesture before his impassive gaze
Power channels, below the surface
Christian mind cannot detect
Stabbing empty, fever pitch
Turn the blade, release is now.
Male and female
Boys and girls
Tall and short
Light and dark
Plying the tarred roads
To make ends meet
Running gallantly
Competing for buyers
This battle...
is not for the weak and weary
Pity is the enigma
that flows..
through
my
downtrodden veins
questions are asked....
.when will the plight
of the common man change
When will this oppression
and deadly plague
Of dehumanization come to an end
Oh Nigeria,Nigeria
Consider the plight...
of your brothers and sisters
Most of which
this deadly sea of poverty
Has derailed off
the path of success
They say all hands are not equal
....Smiling...not equal they are
But symbiosis they share
The common man
is part of the cosmo of this
nation
And each deserves
the silverspoon
to attain
success.
WHY WE NO LONGER BLUSH.
Greed just caused a barricade
Named road block,
My rusted tooth brush is been
Pasted with mud,
Blood is the chalk on my
Children’s black board,
Darkness has made my vision
Blind with sawdust,
The society is presently corruption
Drunk,
My skin is now thicker than
The elephants tusk.
Prosperity is an abstract tense
To my leaders ears,
Her desk is the nest for corrupt
Birds.
These foundation needs urgent
Salvation,
Political elite believe in dehydration
Clothed with frustration.
Dehumanization is the logo for
Each progressive union,
How is it done in Pluto?
That astronauts dream to travel
Like she harvests gold.
Niger is my home
The future looks like a shredding
Rope,
Major infants are infected with
Running nose.
Wealth is a test not show of
Strength
Even the beggar can become
My president
If he dreams well
And furnish his sense,
Be prepared to help
Distribute smiles without
Collecting rents.
HABIB AKEWUSOLA.
The bullet is on the tip of my tongue
Your heart is underneath the barrel of the gun
I’ll blow your HEART to pieces
With this:
A lethal word; a deathly weapon
I’ll watch you bleed to nothing
Shrivel, shiver with this:
An assassinating label; DEHUMANIZATION
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