Long Fetuses Poems
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H ow many senseless murders
O rphans left by acts of war
W hich man will next receive orders
M aybe the world is tired of the gore
A nswer me if you can, is murder right
N ow tell, should fetuses be swept away
Y ou think because they'll your plight
A nd how long will God put up with man
N ow don't you think He's had enough
D o you think hundreds of murders each night His plan
H onestly don't you think we need to be ready
O pen our hearts to His love
W ithout the Holy Spirit our lives unsteady
L onging for something missing, that being the Holy Dove
O ptimistic or pessimistic analyze these words
N o! God is not happy with His highest creation
G hee, He still loves His birds!
God still loves mankind, but He wants mankind to love Him and each other.
Disagreement, discussion, and debate are not indicators of hate.
When fetuses die and their mothers no longer cry, we are practitioners of infanticide.
Becoming rich from a Washington hitch is evidence you are a crooked son of a be-itch.
Segregation and diversity mandates are damaging constructs designed to divide and each are a disgrace of equal distaste.
You need it to drive, you need it to fly, you need to buy, voter IDs are not Jim Crow and when you say so, it clearly shows who paints from a racist tableau.
Those who skew NEWS based on their political views are liars and should be considered pariah’s.
When you deny biology in favor of an alphabet ideology there can be but one conclusion; you are possessed by demons of delusion.
People who say God is not boss and reject Jesus’s work on the cross are wandering through life blinded and lost.
A POETESS’ MURDERED LIFE
This is for Renee Nicole Macklin Good!
-Poets of the World
The gunshots of ICE (Trump's anti-immigrant serial killers)
Rumble in the air of Minneapolis, Minnesota (USA)
Filling people with panic, terror, and fear.
They have witnessed the death
Of a precious poet, a writer, wife, mother, and aspiring guitarist.
Winner of the prestigious award from
The Academy of American Poets for her poem titled:
"On Learning to Dissect Pig Fetuses"
She died from two precise shots.
Death that the mad evangelical
Criminal and fascist Capitol Hill man
Applauds with the hands of all his henchmen
Who venerate and worship his wealthy cock
With two balls that he wants to resemble, no doubt
Those of the Mongol warrior
And conqueror Genghis Khan
Who unified the nomadic tribes
Of this ethnic group from northern Asia
Founder and first Great Khan of the Mongol Empire
Whose Nicole’s death the republicans applaud and cheer
Swallowing all the lies they tell about her death.
Perhaps because she was a woman and a poetess
A fighter for the dignity and freedom of her community
The madman of the Capitol Hill has raised his neck
To take part, without being present
Dancing his “dance of the disabled”
For the death of an innocent, beautiful woman
A defender of human rights.
The “madman of the Capitol Hill” is afraid
Because he thinks that
She and her people will take away his empire
Leaving him dethroned and a mere pittance.
Perhaps, also, because of her extraordinary poem
Awarded in its day well deserved
That the whole country now recites
And will recite forever
Remembering her
So that the poem and she
Will not fall into oblivion.
Now, this madman in the Capitol
Deafening the ears of the people
With: War! War! Or: Peace! Peace!
Death to immigrants and adversaries!
He won't light a candle
On the makeshift altar dedicated to her
But instead wants to march to Greenland
To screw over the Vikings or whoever
By dropping the atomic bomb on them
Or buying their rare earth elements
With money acquired through slavery
As he himself boasts
Dancing his repeated dance of a disabled person
Which, like a dense fog
Dispels his murderous and criminal eyes.
(This poem is political satire;
don't read if you think you may
be offended. No truth in any of it,
considered by many to be
tasteless -- Not meant to be taken
factually nor literally -- Sincerely, Joe)
New strain of Virus detected
just a minute ago! Predominately
in Democrat run cities and states:
Seems to be 3 trillion times more
infective. CDC is calling it the,
S.T.U.P.I.D. Variant. University Staffs
hard-hit! Early signs, loss of Sense-
of-Smell, Gullibility, and increased
fetish for Designer Masks. Best
detected by examination of Cancel
Cultures -- microscopes prohibited
per Fauci. The most vulnerable group
seems to be those who have already
had 4 doses and 2 boosters. To treat
Fauci recommends, 4 doses and 2 boosters
for everyone, preferably administered
as young as the womb to developing
fetuses by his personally trained
omnipotent physicians at Unplanning
Parenthood -- Biden and Pelosi
say, God Bless America!
Plucked flower once clumsily graced a girl's curls,
Now crushed in the wake of her ascending swirls,
Comfort be gone as bees hold dust for another,
Swarms of butterfly's doth aimlessly hover,
...Yes, it was a bothersome thing,
...It will pass for others to bring,
Drizzling fate from silvery clouds of one-liners,
Trickling o'er laughing grass chuckles from flowers,
Smiles grew everywhere, a forest was chanting,
Far grays thunderous silence mid dull strikes of lightning,
Whilst a cheery red robin sits on a limb,
Gave me a tune and tweeted a hymn,
...A rainbow arc set adrift in motionless skies,
...Half of that lost in obscure disguise,
A moth sits on my clothes, drawn as if it was light,
Does not budge when shaken, not even a strike,
Eyes on me, as they interpret their assessment and define,
Requires close touches, made speechless, 'twas divine,
Teardrops from elated eyes as fetuses of euphoria,
Forms and slides on cheeks fleeted journey of my utopia,
Breeze stems the short blades that grip the weight of me,
As enmeshed toes wrap in taller swords from cool earth neath, be,
...Wanton for more goes unclaimed and was ignored,
...Droplets add, from a few to a downpour, engorged,
Clone the day, immerse it well into aspirations hold, free it back to where fantasy exists, except the one,
Pampered I chased myself homeward, drenched yet fulfilled for having lived this day regardless, except the one.
2019 September 19
Teardrops born from
inflamed elated eyes.
Fetuses of euphoria
slips and slide down
thy cheeks for they
are genuine touch
that emblazon the
trail upon the abyss
of thy bosoms bare.
Come o thee, thy
desirous flames
and quench the
ardor of my thirst
that wanes in an
ancient domain of
soulless wanderers
tarrying for release
into a realm that is
yet unclaimed and
hail me beyond the
clutches of myself,
virgining an instilled
wonder. Venturous
being to be sprung
into the glory of the
true light, and then
stretch yonder from
this firmament hold
and embolden upon
a righteous climb to
heights unknown so
at the appointed tryst
with destiny, burst at
first, a tight existence
of brevity, ere I then
explode my essence
as an unfurling verse
of a red florentine for
eyes to behold and
breaths to yield into
submission, captives
that toys with their
emotions. Preying
upon fickle souls that
meanders yon my
presence, for I am a
simple soulless oddity
in their life.
Date: 06/16/2019
(In Tudu Hospital in the former Saigon,
several hundred dead babies have been
preserved in formaldehyde. They are
hideously deformed as a result of their
mothers having been contaminated by
Agent Orange, a chemical diffused in
Vietnam as part of the American military
offensive, Operation Ranch Hand.)
Things To Do
Everything's sterile. The quiet reek
of formaldehyde seeps from neat shelves.
Tall glass jars, the size of mega-buckets
of Colonel's chicken, line the walls
floor to ceiling. Let's take a look, friend.
Downtown Hanoi, at a loose end,
we'll see the sights.
But they won't see us.
These fetuses and newborn babes
gaze out uncomprehending,
the faintest hint of surprise
darkening their big bug eyes.
Here, a head is elongated like squash.
There, a tongue cascades from a mouth
to fuse with a sternum. Tiny heads
hone to a point, like someone tried
to put them through a pencil-sharpener.
Faces that will never blink look out
and seem to ask, rhetorically,
if this was really meant to be.
By what rule of law or war,
by what technological advance
could it have served somebody's end
to make us monsters,
before we even had the chance
to be born?
This is the great big world we will see.
It begins inside this hatchery.
Since Our Ford made it reality,
it has been home for both you and me.
These are the children of tomorrow.
Give them happiness without sorrow.
In harmonious community,
we are strong with solidarity.
Zygotes renew our identity;
each a pillar of stability.
We will expand our society.
It is possible with you and me.
From the alpha down to epsilon,
the quilt is sewn at each echelon.
We insure that life shall carry on
We shall make each stitch continuous.
All our borders are contiguous.
With Ford’s help, it shall be congruous.
Take pride in your working as you go.
Care for the fetuses. Watch them grow.
These are the children of tomorrow.
Based on the 1932 novel "Brave New World" by the late Aldous Huxley
ARE YOU RIBBING ME
GIVE us back our rightful place
Matriarchal society - was not broken- when you fixed it -
you need to stop playing games with yourself.
When western heathenism became patriarchal--
the feminine energy was still ruling--
We allowed you to realize whom came from whom.
Was it not the womb who gave birth to the?
son and the moon.
Was it not you who slid down our milky way.
Was it not you that we gave the power to.
Because you are our creation.
Give truth back to our men
the out of control concepts has bred deception-
Before too- many more myths create
the polarity- desires, pulling men
between masculine and feminine…
In the beginning the one who had all power
Created both male and female not to rule over
One another but to be as opposite attractions
Giving life -love- and-
Joy and to make more
Creations through pro-creations.
I WAS Placed in the womb
and in the womb, I was formed.
When I got here
somebody told me
I came from a Rib.
Did the research and found
it wasn't me
I am a womb-man
came from the womb
people.
I met the "Rib People"
heard their fantasy,
and they do not like me,
because I am woman.
But still they place more
seeds in my womb...
and give mystery to my history,
even though they know
They came from me.
The rib story gains
popularity as It's
entwined with the bibliography.
Now instead of love," Jealousy"
has reared its ugly head,
and female fetuses by the millions
are ENDING up DEAD!
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2017
(“The Mothership”, 2024, photo collage of original encaustics)
From the beginning of time bands and tribes
Have simply named themselves “The People”
Obviously to make a distinction
Between themselves and other animals,
Plants and rocks, spirits
And the other humans over there.
And from the beginning of time
They have probably used the excuse
“They’re not really people”
When getting into conflict with those others
And deciding they need to be controlled
Enslaved or eliminated.
We’ve seen it happen repeatedly to black Africans
To ethnic minorities wherever they are resistant to change
To the Jews en masse in Europe last century
And today with helpless fetuses the world over.
It is after all the best way to rationalize
Murdering those we don’t want
Or can’t control any other way.
It is after all important
To be able to sleep at night.
I’m sure there are alien motherships
Orbiting our planet right now
Watching as we struggle
To mature into celestial beings,
And I’m sure they’re saying the same,
“They’re not really people”
But with greater wisdom and compassion
Are also saying,
“Not yet.”
(10/12/25)