Long Genocides Poems
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1.
Yesterday night,
To the shrilling winds of history I listened to,
Telling me tales from centuries past,
Horrifying stories of hate, suffering, and
Distraction
Of killings unending
Of tortures untold
Of pain unimaginable
Of rivers of blood
Of seas of tears,
All works, of appalling
War!
2.
I asked myself isn’t it about time, humanity
Overthrew the reign of this wrathful tyrant,
This soulless dynast of human consciousness,
This relentless torturer of loving hearts,
This destroyer of dreams and aspirations of so
Many generations of the innocent?
3.
Hasn’t the hour come yet to put an end to the
dreadfulness of war?
How many more centuries have to pass for us to
Stand up and fight this monstrous slayer?
How many more countries have to be destroyed?
How many genocides have to take place before
We ready would be to:
Bar hatred
Ease suffering
Stop the distractions
End the killings
Eliminate the tortures
Alleviate the pain
Dry the rivers of blood and
Evaporate the seas of tears?
4.
Aren’t we ready yet to SAY,
Enough to agony,
Enough to fear,
Enough to death?
But
Yes, to care,
Yes, to compassion,
Yes, to universal brotherhood?
5.
What are we waiting for to
Erect the structures of understanding?
What will it take to make us pave the highways of
Friendship?
What more do we need to build the bridges of
Love and compassion?
6.
Let us, therefore, create, NOW,
These structures,
These highways and
The bridges that will permit us to:
Eliminate our differences,
Resolve our disputes,
Find solutions to our problems,
Give answers to questions that have
Haunted humanity since its birth,
Thus, at last,
We will glorify God and Man alike
By
Establishing the kingdom of blessed
Peace on earth,
From this moment onward and into
Eternity!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
04 SEPTEMBER 2014
Humanity Hell bound
'Humanity!' O, 'Yes humanity!'
You warned me about your insanity
somewhat louder than the Christianity
you warned me about the inhumanity
My wrong choices
My determined hard core voices
That evil hopelessness – our evil that’s in our hearts
I have dreamed of the people
and the ignorance never populating
Genocides,
Killing off souls trying to hide
I crave the barbarous, barbaric bigotry
through which came lacking, lacking, lacking
Biting, hitting, kicking, licking
Me?
Deep into that darkness massing
Is it HELL?
Will all humanity dwell?
And the patients never imparting
Those desires of the hearts lost in…
ill humanitarian hither hospitalizing
Back into my memories bisecting
Dissecting spirits and dreams
Demons ridicule and laughing
much I marveled the magnanimous, what flocking
Death shall bring occupants
While I pondered, Malachite and mocking?
12/23/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2019
I know you say that there’s bodies
across the Russian land,
outside of abandoned work camps,
where countless souls were damned,
and yes, there’s twenty million gone
by those who claimed our name,
and radiation splashed about,
I know that seems insane,
but what you do not understand
is those guys screwed it up,
that Lenina and that Stalin guy,
they pushed too hard, too much.
Thought they could make socialism
with cruelty and might,
but we’re not like those tyrants, no,
this time we’ll do it right!
I know you saw that great famine
when China tried to leap,
and it’s hard not to be appalled,
when the price seems so steep,
and seeing government teach kids
to turn against their own…
yes, sixty million is a lot,
we’ve seen the stats, we know,
but that Mao guy was way off base,
strayed too far from the path,
I mean, that guy liked little girls,
you can’t trust men like that.
We want to build a better world,
not brutal appetites,
we’d never let in men like that,
this time we’ll do it right!
I know that those darn killing fields
can leave bad impressions,
that turning back to ‘Year Zero,’
seems a mad obsession,
that a third of Cambodians
going off to their death
is honestly the sort of thing
that makes you catch your breath.
But that Pol Pot was out-of-whack,
that’s not what we’re about,
to rebuild all society?
Who would dream of that now?
To think we’d have such arrogance
when bringing you to light,
we’d never kill those who stand out,
This time we’ll do it right!
Yes, Cuba and North Korea
are poor, broken, and lost,
and sure, their people, to get out
will open oceans cross.
We’re aware the Venezuela
collapsed in just ten years,
that they once had great oil wealth,
but now are drowned in tears.
You have to see, in all of this,
they don’t get Marx’s point,
and if they knew it like we do,
they’d not be out-of-joint.
When we’re in charge you’ll never see
the genocides or blight,
we’re gonna build a paradise,
this time we’ll do it right!
…Hey, why are they all pointing guns at me? Who let the
peasants have gu—
...They proclaimed that we ‘oppressed women,’
it’s the refrain of loud femenists,
forgetting that before birth control
nature gave us little choice in this.
That before we had technology,
when life meant brutal, physical work,
that there just weren’t all that many jobs
physically weaker women could work.
They forget that the woman’s franchise
arose on America’s frontier,
that we blazed the path for suffrage,
their equality started right here.
Now why would a nation do all that
if they cared so little for females?
If we sought to be patriarchal
then I dare say the strategy failed.
And yet the left keeps raging about
rights which women have been long endowed,
Why should we buy all their self-hatred
when there’s so much for which to be proud?
And worst of all these fools like to claim,
that we’ve learned nothing, it’s all the same,
which I think is a sure sign that they
have something dreadful wrong in their brains.
We look at our mistakes all the time,
we brood endless on our sins and scars,
America lacks no self-reflection,
if anything we take it too far!
We get so obsessed with all our wrongs
that we think they drown out all the right,
we selfishly think it’s all our fault,
then of the truth we sadly lose sight.
Many cultures can’t ask such questions,
ask the Turks about past genocides,
or see if Communist China will
own up to all the Uighurs that died.
You don’t see many Japanese kids
who know about the rape of Nanking,
yet every American does know
that Wounded Knee was a horrible thing.
Why should we regret a culture that
tries to learn rather than disavow?
Our growing should not bring self-hatred,
to be honest, it should make us proud.
In the end, these issues are smokescreens,
thrown up to keep good people off track,
the left wants us all to hate ourselves
because self-hating folk rarely fight back.
There’s no logic behind what they hate,
hell, it changes hour-to-hour,
what unifies all these self-hatreds
is whether it will bring them power.
That’s really what’s behind all of this,
like some grand Machiavellian scheme,
to make free people into peasants
they first must be cut down and demeaned.
In truth, they don’t like Americans,
they don’t like people who stand unbowed,
so reject their vile self-hatred,
embrace all the things that make us proud.
Liberty, equality, fraternity,
beautiful chimeras carved into the republican marble,
yet behind the motto, the Black Code,
the papal bull,
and the slave-trading betrayal as backbone.
Slavery, colonization,
xenophobia, negrophobia,
these are the legacies they disguise as civilizations.
Human zoos, colonial trading posts, the colonial pact,
the savage plunder wrapped in a tricolor flag.
In banana republics, tyranny is always under contract,
Françafrique and its neo-colonial military bases
feed African dictators at the service of the West.
Africa, the third world, whose misery has been planned for millennia,
this is how they name the cradle of humanity.
Under their blades, raw materials
become a procession of genocides,
and neo-colonial poaching devours heritages.
Assimilation, integration, alienation,
these three chains forged by the schools of the empire of Enlightenment.
But human dignity refuses to be sold,
the integrity and identity of courageous souls will never prostitute themselves.
Humanity and Africanity,
these two flames proclaim aloud
that the womb of oppressed peoples
shall never be reduced to the dust of servitude and submission.
the orchestra played full volume in the theatre of her mind
thoughts and emotions vied for undisturbed attention but
her misplaced applause failed to settle restless blind screens
decoupages tapestries and fabrications of her imagination
whole movies and symphonies arranged on fast auto replay
spooled forward and backward until vision blurred into one
epic film tear of overload exhaustion and impenetrable void
hungry children
uncivil wars
deforestation
xenophobia
fission bombs
subjugation oppression marginalization genocides homophobic attacks
power money greed opulence decadence and seeming banality of evil
for the charade that life was she needed to close plenty of curtains
unveil at the same time what had been hidden behind a solid façade
when the cacophony climaxed in crescendo staccato and discord
she knew that her voice of conscience would lead her the way
03rd June 2021
The Lesser Matter
There was a human race to save,
Not one race or creed,
For all souls, it was for all,
did our Savior bleed.
For the God of all time and eternity,
Saw the greatest plight,
For our souls, His only cause,
He chose to fight.
Enslavements, genocides, and murders,
for injustices of all kind,
For every cause and case foreseen,
had you and I in mind.
He forsook the royalty of His glory,
to be enclosed in flesh and skin,
Conquered sin and death in the likeness of sinful flesh,
For us to win!
For the radical cause we lift our voices
and fists the same.
Lay down your weapons, for the sake of Christ, in Jesus' name!
For Him, turn neither left or right, to choose a side,
Choose the Lord of Host Most High,
His grace applied.
What does it matter to hate and fight,
mere men are scorned or applaused,
When for the preaching of the gospel of Jesus Christ, is the greatest cause.
Many have forsaken the spiritual battle,
to choose the latter,
to fight, live and even die, for the lesser matter.
That you would pick a fight for part than all of humanity,
A greater weight is more at stake for eternity.
I spit on the sermons of slaver prophets.
Their prayers fed the whips that tore my ancestors’ flesh.
They built cathedrals with the blood of captives,
And sanctified pain in the name of a carnivorous God.
I am the heir of the tormented of Gorée,
The cursed child of plantations watered with tears.
I have not forgotten the slave ships,
Nor the papal blessings that celebrated chained flesh.
They call me barbarian because I refuse their pardon,
Yet their libraries reek of the lies of civilization.
I have no need for their counterfeit paradise,
Their heavens are slave markets painted blue.
I stand upright like the brave rebels of Haiti,
Torn from the entrails of the earth by the wrath of volcanoes.
I speak with the broken jaws of my forefathers,
And I write with the black ink of smothered genocides.
Their flags are cloths stained with blood,
Their laws, chains polished by diplomacy.
They claim to distribute freedom,
But their satanic philanthropy cultivates misery as an eternal rent.
I have no god to crown my wounds.
My faith is the scar tattooed on my forehead.
I have no temple to prostitute my soul,
My truth feeds on the rage of the damned.
Let them keep calling me a wicked *****,
I will turn that insult into a scepter.
I have no need for their recognition,
For my dignity is not for sale.
I live in this world fractured by their bombs,
Yet my conscience remains undefeated.
A people does not die when it chooses to remember,
And my memory is a weapon loaded blank against their idols.
A young lady, Kathy by name. A young man, David by name;
Siblings, sitting across from me at the Christmas dinner table,
filled with food fit for kings and queens.
Their uncle Ed sits on the left, and to their right is their mother Susan, who sits next to her father and mother, Bill and Grace, who sit next to Grace's mother Mary, who is full of life at 95 years of age.
My wife and I are most honored to be invited to dinner where,
Except for Ed, the aforementioned ones are part of the 'same
Household'. I don't know that I have witnessed a four-generation
Household. And I am overwhelmed as I witness four beautiful generations.
Each generation from ages 18 to 95 has a history, a story, an observation,
Each of which is unique and depicts the character of that particular time.
At the beginning, Bill prayed, blessing the fellowship, food, and family.
Later on, Bill also shared a timely piece of Good News about The Lord.
In spite of wars and conflicts, viruses and diseases, atrocities, holocaust, and genocides, Mary, whom I shall remember as 'Christmas Mary', represents the 'greatest generation'. Mary, who shows no scares of pain, but an alert mind and energetic frame, was born in 1926. Mary, the mother of Jesus, surely made emotional adjustments when told there was no room for them in the inn. Amagine the trauma she must have felt when she and Joseph had to flee to Egypt to save the life of their new born. My new found friend, 'Christmas Mary', most assuredly has faced trials in her life, but has been one aglow with fulfillment, inspiration, and promise.
At the dinner table as I was sponging the atmosphere, I turned my attention to the articulate young siblings, David and Kathy. When asked their 'take' from their family experience, David speaks of 'Observation'. As a teen, he too was sponging the atmospheric fragrances of three generations. I am extremely touched by what David must be seeing through generational corridors. Feasting of the succulence from both food and family, I had been blessed.
Written,122621PSCtest. Entered 041522 Form N - Narrative Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
The world was built on lies and corruption,
Africa was the target of colonial destruction,
They targeted not because of genuinity,
But for the sole purpose of selfishness -
And greed bred from jealousy that it was never theirs to begin with
Secrets of brutality,
Hidden in the purgatory of the past,
theft the real cause of a power that is false,
Stolen from the people who deserve it the most -
It’s true owners - the black race,
Us, the beginners of everything -
The true leaders, those that invented power,
Turned into greatness
The fruits of our labour stolen by greedy hands,
Then profited off of our blood that built empires,
And improved economies
The savagery of the white man knows no bounds,
Tearing apart our ancestors families,
Stripping them from loved ones,
Murdering parents in front of children,
And enslaving generations
The only time they cared to touch -
Was when they stole, autonomy and spirit,
Using black women as breeding farms -
And a body to feed our children, despite
Their constant need to criticise them
Using black men to make examples of others,
By use of ‘buck-breaking’,
Not only stealing their manhood, but dignity too,
Replacing it with shame and humiliation
A history of brutal atrocities,
Mass genocides -
Irreversible traumas,
Under the guise of the stereotypes enforced upon us
The lies that were told, were the truths of the oppressors,
A history of deceit made for black to be criminalised,
And white victimised,
The truth of the white man's history of brutality,
Runs deeper than any government conspiracy
The truth no one wants to hear,
Becomes reparations for my people
The truth no one wants to hear,
Will be the sentencing of white people