Long Antebellum Poems
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The will to power is a prominent concept in Nietzschean philosophy,
And exerted a strong influence on some major movements in history.
Its effect can be traced to the fields of politics, evolution, and psychology,
And provides useful insights into the subject of African slavery.
Nietzsche’s belief in the concept of higher or master morality,
Lead him to disavow ideas of egalitarianism and democracy.
Master morality, which values pride and power was thought to be superior,
And slave morality, which values kindness, empathy, and sympathy inferior.
Hitler was attracted to and influenced by aspects of Nietzschean philosophy.
And the Nazis selectively used his philosophy to justify their infamous activity.
Ideas are not immaterial they are important in shaping our views.
It was erroneous ideas that lead Hitler to kill six million Jews.
The Nazi order praised the Antebellum South and its existing societal order,
Which kept African Americans at the lowest rungs of the social ladder.
Hitler believed that a Confederate victory would have made America a great nation,
One ruled “by a real Herren-class,” and based on inequality and black subjugation.
While Americans reject Nazism, the idea of white supremacy persists in our society.
And we must realize that this idea is antithetical to the principle of democracy.
If our nation wishes to eradicate systemic racism and correct the effects of slavery,
We must remove from public places the monuments and symbols of the Confederacy.
But the removal of monuments and symbols alone will not atone for our nation’s iniquity,
America must finally acknowledge the national sin and evil of black slavery,
Reform its educational system that still perpetuates the myth of white superiority,
And remove the barriers that prevent blacks from achieving social and economic parity.
Over a century after the abolition of slavery, the evil of racism still haunts this nation,
That prides itself as a bastion of equality, liberty, and a model of cultural integration.
It is time for this generation of Americans who live in a society built on injustice,
To take responsibility for proactively addressing injustice and ending racial prejudice.
Courtesy of one or more tradesmen,
first Monday in September set aside
for employees able, eager, ready
and willing to acquire money
to marry groom or bride
climb the corporate ladder or
become an artisan, entrepreneur, technician
to side step getting rung, drafted
like an oxen plow, commandeered and chide
by management as insubordinate
till retirement or join kiln fields once died
from over exertion, yet nonetheless
sweat of brow efforts praised I espied
searching me noggin brief history re:
aforesaid day, where barbecues fried
dispersed aromas recognizing efforts
of workers with quality control as guide
grievances against danger challenged
sense and sensibility stalwart did not hide
the shenanigans that took place inside
boardrooms in tandem with glories of
American made products from those
who put figurative nose to grindstone –
just common everyday Jane's and Joe’s
who weathered extreme temperatures,
whereby bodies froze
but thanks to those who battled elements
at large and snatched doze
birth of brute efforts eventually
earned reserved renowned
borne couple shy of
nineteenth century, whence sound
of industrial silence replaced with
parades where hoof beats did pound
burgeoning and bustling city streets
echoed along hardened ground
fealty to country soldered
with faith, federation union freedom
and job security did thence abound,
which holiday underwent
transformations as bustle
and hustle proved myth regarding
land of milk and honey –
from straining of muscle
whereby life, liberty and pursuit
of happiness less of physical tussle
set (thank you Masons and Dixons)
cornerstone to an invisible
complex edifice originally from New York
forgotten builders, farmers, machinists,
et cetera who laid groundwork
wrought by destruction
from Civil War largesse and pork
loosed from the bottle in
Antebellum South, when off flew cork
freeing a genie, which became rendered
supremely courtly poet, i.e. this former dork.
Courtesy of one or more tradesmen,
first Monday in September set aside
for employees able, eager, ready
and willing to acquire money
to marry groom or bride
climb the corporate ladder or
become an artisan, entrepreneur, technician
to side step getting rung, drafted
like an oxen plow, commandeered and chide
by management as insubordinate
till retirement or join kiln fields
once the music died
from plane over exertion, yet nonetheless
sweat of brow efforts praised I espied
searching me noggin brief history re:
aforesaid day, where barbecues fried
dispersed aromas recognizing efforts
of workers with quality control as guide
grievances against danger challenged
sense and sensibility stalwart did not hide
the shenanigans that took place inside
sense and sensibility
without prejudice nor pride
boardrooms in tandem with glories of
American made products from those
who put figurative nose to grindstone –
just common everyday Jane's and Joe’s
who weathered extreme temperatures,
whereby bodies froze
but thanks to those who battled elements
at large and snatched doze
birth of brute efforts eventually
earned reserved renowned
borne couple shy of
nineteenth century, whence sound
of industrial silence replaced with
parades where hoof beats did pound
burgeoning and bustling city streets
echoed along hardened ground
fealty to country soldered
with faith, federation union freedom
and job security did thence abound,
which holiday underwent
transformations as bustle
and hustle proved myth regarding
land of milk and honey –
from straining of muscle
whereby life, liberty and pursuit
of happiness less of physical tussle
set (thank you Masons and Dixons)
cornerstone to an invisible
complex edifice originally from New York
forgotten builders, farmers, machinists,
et cetera who laid groundwork
wrought by destruction
from Civil War largesse and pork
loosed from the bottle in
Antebellum South, when off flew cork
freeing a genie, which became rendered
supremely courtly poet, i.e. this former dork.
He’s a conman without any conscience
owned by Putin for secrets he keeps
And as long as the blackmail continues
Trump enjoys all the freedom he reaps
He created a trade war with tariffs
turned our allies into enemies
Like a mobster that uses extortion
on each leader he put on the squeeze
All the chaos he makes is intended
part of Project 2025
In the wings, antebellum is waiting
for its faithfully racist to rise
He is burning up all of our treasure
our taxes are paying for ICE
As they threaten and beat on the people
it is Trump retribution, done twice
He’s a loser who’s angry for losing
always yearning for praise of his work
So he’s taking it out on the country
where he’s commonly known as a jerk
He exists to get back at his rivals
as his thirst for revenge never sate
And the stench that we smell is the rotting
of a soul filled with vengeance and hate
He’s dismantling our institutions
and installing himself as a king
With a ballroom where bribery’s welcomed
and the players will all kiss the ring
Truth be told, he’s a swindler and traitor
who is drowning in lies and deceit
He’s the enemy of all that is decent
and a loser who’s feeling the heat
When I met you in the language of lonely war
three feathers fastened to your breast breathing sore
many graves of gentlemen knew your score and the devil deigned for more,
tears you had for all times rhymes and ribs broke from crimes making aching lore,
ink of fire you did pour, scold and scorch on skin red soft, truly poetry the maze and metaphor,
A feather you gave with each kiss and wound to savor
their texture smooth as silken vapor, tips cut cruel by sibyl's saber,
quills and spells I made of them, heaven and venom in every lash and letter
when love was innocent, revolutionary, rampant with rogue fight, rapid on soul river
with hawk's edge I wrote with might and flight, dominant on the flesh of firmament's blue leather,
Where the owl's point pierced the vellum of victory's scripture
antebellum affections covered our eyes with wings of damp wisdom and cool color,
together we took the touch of roses and razors, feeling the sting and arousal of friendly danger
as the nights knew more than days, secrets grew sweeter, dreams bolder, howls heavy and louder,
our zenith reached the zone quiet calm black, a raven's stem sealed the song of sleeping stranger -
J.A.B.
I knew the hush of white verandas,
Where time lay soft as fading lace,
And magnolias bent like women dreaming
In their slow, untroubled grace.
The river held its silver rumor,
The fields wore gold without a sound,
And all the clocks of earth were gentle,
With no sorrow found.
Yet somewhere beyond the singing distance
A darker wind began to start—
A whisper moving through the cedars,
A fracture running through the heart.
I did not see the hands that labored,
Nor hear the breaking of the day;
Only the light, too calm, too perfect,
As truth was kept away.
Now memory is a haunted parlor,
Where portraits stare with patient eyes—
And every rose that once was gardened
Still learns too late what silence hides.
Pride flags fly high today
Folk music family
Mennonite bureaus
So many melons and windsocks and dreamcatchers
This place signals a rebellion
Echoing antebellum times, seething with vibrancy and it boiled over
And for a moment broke the inertia
Love wins today and today we know
That we are a people of progress
But koyaanisqatsi waits for us outside this field
Just past these barns
Most of us are forced to march with that army too but
We can build a bulwark here and move it out beyond the dusty paths
It is up to you artisans, Amish, millennials, immigrants, farmers, poets
Today I secretly join your ranks
Courtesy of one or more tradesmen,
first Monday in September set aside
for employees able, eager, ready
and willing to acquire money
to marry groom or bride
climb the corporate ladder or
become an artisan, entrepreneur, technician
to side step getting rung, drafted
like an oxen plow, commandeered and chide
by management as insubordinate
till retirement or join kiln fields once died
from over exertion, yet nonetheless
sweat of brow efforts praised I espied
searching me noggin brief history re:
aforesaid day, where barbecues fried
dispersed aromas recognizing efforts
of workers with quality control as guide
grievances against danger challenged
sense and sensibility stalwart did not hide
the shenanigans that took place inside
boardrooms in tandem with glories of
American made products from those
who put figurative nose to grindstone –
just common everyday Jane's and Joe’s
who weathered extreme temperatures,
whereby bodies froze
but thanks to those who battled elements
at large and snatched doze
birth of brute efforts eventually
earned reserved renowned
borne couple shy of
nineteenth century, whence sound
of industrial silence replaced with
parades where hoof beats did pound
burgeoning and bustling city streets
echoed along hardened ground
fealty to country soldered
with faith, federation union freedom
and job security did thence abound,
which holiday underwent
transformations as bustle
and hustle
proved myth regarding land of milk and honey –
from straining of muscle
whereby life, liberty and pursuit
of happiness less of physical tussle
set (thank you masons) cornerstone to an invisible
complex edifice originally from New York
forgotten builders, farmers, machinists,
et cetera who laid groundwork
wrought by destruction
from Civil War largesse and pork
loosed from the bottle in
Antebellum South, when off flew cork
freeing a genie, which became rendered
supremely courtly poet, i.e. this former dork.
Bestow on me an incorrect
3 leafed clover ephigy of
buttercup due early spring May
With I meandering through a maze
of cotton wool field lost
Trying best to avert the gaze of
the virile bull's with Horn's poised
Whilst listening to the joy of piercing
ringing mandolin string's and trooping
drum's in both left and right ear's on
my head
Eminating from the Yee Grand Old
Antebellum Plantation guard house
Adorned with a lushious overhanging
archway on either side of it's giant's
causeway
If you dare imagine with Jacaranda Blue
and Cherry blossom infused on a sunset
pink hue nude muse
Instantaneously ushering forth a vision
of Scarlett O'Hara vivacious locks
Gone with the wind like a kite upon a
hazy shimmering warm summer up draft
Augusta Georgia R.E.M night-swimming
aftermath
Prologue
Abandoned and in disrepair the mansion
Is dark now; a story behind every stanchion.
An unwitting monument to a way of life,
Since foreclosed through bloody civil strife.
Antebellum
The hush of summer evenings cued the trilling
(Fiddled on hind legs accompanied by warty pouches)
Chorus; pierced only by the discordant creaking
Of unseen stairs rising to the house slave's quarters
Portending the disquiet of antebellum martyrs.
Wittiness trees attest in angles and chains
To the master's grid and shade the lanes
For the surrey whose wheels rutted the gateway
(Become artifacts) en route to soirées of gaiety.
The prairie land, violated by steel and condescension
To the roots of its towering grasses and purple gentian,
Forced to nourish seeds of an alien flora for hempen
Riches, patiently awaits its day of redemption.
Bricks of fertile earth fired over an Osage hearth,
By chattel hands, in mortise and tenons, gave birth
To a mansion at the prelude of a moral sea-change
That would divide the nation and break its chains.
Current Era
Their lives deprived of enslaved labor, the once-lived
Voices ebbed a little as each generation removed.
Shrouded in leaves of time they are a mute bequeath
Indelibly recorded upon the stories that lie beneath.
Dreamer boy speak for them now. Sing for bluestem that switched
Against the sky nourishing the thundering herds that provisioned
Native tribes. Rage for those hobbled to sow but never to reap,
Weep for a Nation gone mad and seeds planted too deep.
Reflections after touring an abandoned antebellum mansion.
Copyright Paul M Thomson September 2011.