Long Join forces Poems
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Prayer to the Stone of Sobriety
Under a purple flannel-like sheet, but not as soft;
As warm as flannel-but hotter,
I am sweating.
The flannel shroud soaks up my sweat like my liver soaks up venom
I see angry tigers approaching from the ceiling above where I lay;
Tigers coming to rip the walls of my mortal gut.
Oh, Bacchus, send your vengeful tigers away
What did I ever do to you?
The sheet protects me from sunlight, but not from myself;
Nor am I shielded from Bacchus’ tigers; and not from my sweat.
Beads of toxic perspiration roll across swollen eyelids.
I press my cracked lips firmly together as if to scream silently to scare the tigers.
A poison tiger in my body torments my heart,
Pressing its scabbed paw firmly against my veins
Each pulse of the baneful blood pushes against my forehead as the tiger roars
And Bacchus begins to laugh.
Oh, wine, Oh drink, Oh smoke and pill
Who put you in my shriveled stomach?
Who breathed you into my cancerous lung?
What did I ever do to you?
A heave of tepid vomit snaps like a leather whip through my throat!
Tigers hate the taste of vomit.
Bacchus’ hatred is repulsed by its smell.
The tigers stop with one last press upon my forehead.
The sweat-soaked purple cloth is flung back from my shaking body by an unknown woman.
The wet pile of purple sheet crystallizes on the corner of my pyre.
It solidifies, as does my resolve, to keep Bacchus and the tigers at bay.
The mound of purple quartz is tethered to my body by a cord of desperation.
Oh wine, Oh drink. You too, smoke and pill,
The blue of hope and red of blood join forces to guard me from your tiger claws.
My sobriety hangs in the balance.
It hangs around my neck like a stone
That has the weight of three large hogs.
It hangs around my neck like a young woman, not yet a noose.
Like the woman who was commissioned by ancient Greeks to keep me sober.
Oh, sober Amethyst
Like ancient Bacchus, I cry
Tears of sweat over my drunkenness
Ashamed enough to die; but I cannot
Your generous gift of recovery is free.
What did I ever do to deserve your sober generosity?
Be my stone of sobriety;
You are my receptacle of thought and habit.
Heal me, oh purple goddess.
Protect this mortal from my internal tigress
Guard me with the weight of purple stone.
Oh, stone of sobriety, heal this mortal fool.
Whats in the news today
and how much snow is on the ground
they say in the paper there is 2 600 homeless people
in my home city
but word of mouth and the people who work in the centers
estimate its more like 5000
so I ask
is this a protest of a country who has been lied to
who was led to a war that did not concern them?
who demands to have their own backyard of chemical warfares cleaned up?
Is this a protest against war of I'll never pay taxes
but I'll humble my own country
turning innocent men into serial killers
who join the smuftee killing patriots levelling a country flat
firing machine guns at innocent men listening to dance music
not to mention the reports of raped thirteen year olds and arson
and parents being forced to witness the whole thing before being executed
So I ask
wanna know about terrorism
as winter approaches
and you know soon
you're gonna be walking amongst streets
of frozen corpses
because there is nowhere left for them to go
and the soldiers join forces with some other country who feeds you
lies through the television
and then your own backyard says were going in to peace keep and the truth
surfaces that yes it is an all out war and we've been lieing all along
5000 homeless
a protest?
a government abnormality of one city?
terrorism of chemical warfare
and we're told some government across the ocean
can't handle their own nightmare of terror and assassins
so we have to go in to attack them
even though 9-11 under rug swept from years ago through our books of lies
was an event they catapulted unto somebody else!!!
5000 homeless
are we under attack?
Is that why no ones worried about the seial killings
of hookers turning up in fields anymore that farmers keep reporting?
Is taht why every neighborhood is swarmed with druglords and junkies?
and the prison that houses 300 has more than 700 people in it?
and all i see in my head are frozen corpses
and now i'm wondering
do the professionals im amongst
helping me through this rough patch
are they on medication too?
did we point the finger in the wrong way?
Is it US or them
and what does that have to do with the price of tea in china ask the British?
but what does my underground know of saints
divine intervention and methods to madness?
It was in eighteen eighty-six in the streets of Chicago,
where the greatest miscarriage of justice people would know
transpired in an infamous labor-police rendezvous.
Albert Parsons led eighty thousand people on revue.
The strikers marched down Chicago’s Michigan Avenue.
The Knights of Labor were sponsors for the work stoppage venue.
Demands for shorter work hours and no child labor were made.
This would be regarded as the world’s first May Day parade.
Thousands nationwide would join in with the activities
In the next few days, the striking workers stopped whole industries.
On the third, some strikers and police engaged in melees.
These actions resulted in two ill-fated fatalities.
The struggles also caused some severe hideous injuries.
The fights took place at the McCormick Harvester Company.
Many held the police for murderous culpability.
Organizers from the Knights of Labor held a mass rally
at the Haymarket in Chicago’s West Loop vicinity.
They would assemble there in the early part of May.
Thousands crowded there peacefully on the month’s fourth day.
Leaflets were passed noting the police for murder to the crowd
as anarchists urged the mobs to join forces and shout aloud.
A bomb thrown at the police catalyzed an altercation.
One officer was killed and others hurt in the explosion.
Matthias Degan was the officer fallen in duty.
Seven other policemen died later from an injury.
The police opened fire on the people immediately.
At least eleven of the strikers were shot at fatally.
Eight men stood trial for the death of police officer Degan.
They were Parsons, August Spies, George Engel, Samuel Fielden,
Adolf Fischer, Louis Lingg, Michael Schwab, and Oscar Neebe.
All eight were tried and found guilty by a judge and jury.
Neebe got fifteen years; the others got the death penalty.
Schwab and Fielden were commuted to life; then got clemency.
Lingg took his own life before his scheduled execution.
The remaining four men were hanged in public exhibition.
Since then, there have been enacted many labor reform laws
The men who died are considered martyrs to a noble cause.
I thank wikipedia.org online encyclopedia for the information I obtained to write this
poem.
‘Turn swords into ploughshares and nightmares to dreams’
I have not one plough and no shares in the market
Insomnia has taken over my nights the rest is illusion
Ambitions are exhausted and hope has no yearning
Freedom dangles on the rope of puppet-less strings
Vacuum reflects an echo of silent ear bursting rasping
Dissonance oozes from cacophony’s apathetic rattle
The heavy clanger of other’s fraudulent forge melts disowned blood
Into ice in my veins as a purulent mind oozes vile battles' cries
Muted by trench feet scraping bottomless mind-fields and apathy
‘Pull yourself out of catatonia’s core-less pits’
But there is no kernel of truth and fruits of desire have rotted
To the acrid stench of a Self carefully lost on broken branches
Snapped composure looms over a well-trodden treacherous path
Carved into an involuntary hermit’s cave by a cliff edged road side
It is grave in the cavern in which vacant vagrants jumble their bones
Disconnect their last possession and wilfully trade skulls and bones
‘This too shall pass and so many others have been stuck in the rot’
And yet suffocation in some muddy sludge is sinking
Slowly and excruciatingly tempting to join forces of evil
A dark rusty anchor floats high on the unreachable ceiling
Time I have endless measures of but the world is upside down
I am out of the picture that has faded memories for the future
Dislodged and dismembered I am a powerful union of nothing
‘Change your perspective and find solace where it is hidden’
So he who is I from the distance finally lets go of unwarranted grip
Descends as far from the surface as possible beyond expectations
And finds footing of the shackles where the ploughshare should be
The spikes pierce my soles and my soul ostensibly drowned in sorrow
At least there is pain and some place in between scars to feel emotions
That tentatively nurture rescue apparently beyond impossible salvation
‘Your advice seemed hollow but there is some loving space left inside my shell’
29th November 2019
Moving force
I foretold a prophecy
I told them I will wait for God time
They thought it was just poetry
Now The youth are out on the streets again
The echoes of needs are high
With the voices of anger all over Nigeria
Demanding to be set free from poverty
Another hunger protest on the streets
Of Nigeria again
Where are the government
I hope they could feel the needs
And angry youths
Whose life is a gamble
Shattered and used for a political gain
Were is the president
Whose words of changes remains invisible
The changes he bleeds is killing us
On daily bases
Our family can't feed
Our parents work to be on debt
Our kids are growing up prematurely
Our old can't get no pention
Our mothers are hungry
Our economy is folding to bankruptcy
The youth cant find no job after school
Our cost of living is over 300percent inflated still with low wages
Every day keep getting worst
Our situation are unbearable
The people can't endure the pain no more
the only thing left is to fight For freedom
Cos there is nothing to lose anyways
So now the youth are out
on the streets again
This evil conditions of hard life
has turn them today to a
Moving force
Moving force
Their comes a day of change
Their comes a time of reinforcement
Their comes a period of truth
Our reality must be rearrange
The only land we have is on captive
Captivated by the powers whose
Aim are not for our growth
Their actions has triggered our
Reaction to protest again
Their greed has been killing our dreams
Their system keeps us begging
Their rules demolishes our integrity
They are never royal to our needs
Our life is full of agony and sorrows
Despite how much stronger we strive
Our days are like the days of no solution
Their evils are obvious
And here comes another time
To stand against a bad governance again
So don't blame the people
Whose life is nothing good to write about
when they join forces
fighting for their rights
And now all they could be
From all they have passed through
A very bad governance
is nothing else but a
Moving force
Your arrival predate mine by two generations
Five weeks now since
Your permanent departure
Internal thoughts conflicted
Forever reminiscin’
Your heavily influenced overture
13, a younglin’
Curtain rise’s inception
On my personal narrative
Shaped by your first instruction
Of the working traveler’s adventure
And the stupidity of the expletive
Return to the current
The destruction you’ve forgotten
Placed on those survivin’
Untold secrets unearthed
Potential debts realized
Your true legacy questioned, reminded
15 and rising
Through my own personal ranks
Of adolescent confusion
You provided the tough shoulder
The ethics of work and moral
My own personal boulder
The passage of space and time
I slowly began to realize
The truth of youthful blinders
Your treatment of your holy union
Your honesty toward my path
Gradually affected my thoughts like a re-winder
20 and extended
Family now a subplot
Of my evolving tale
Your conversation overheard
A secret three-word exchange
Hammered in my story’s first act’s nail
Defining decade now in the rearview
A passage of peaks and valleys
Bringing about my current trajectory
Your skeletons undug
Of four adulterous decades
And of your duplicitous victory
Your praise of adventure
Of old-fashioned ways
Once lived in my inner core
The darkness revealed
Taints the memory
Of your eventful lore
The days move forward
The pain of your loss lessens
But not to the point of forgetfulness
Difficult as it and I may be
To forgive your fables
But mention, I will, of this
As the curtain closes
And the chapter ends
Of this insightful arc
I’ll remember the personal moments
Our private interludes
That left a permanent mark
A symbol of perfection
For that you may have striven
But I’ll tell you a secret
You were merely a human
An occupational hazard being flawed
Bound for inevitable regret
Our time here is over
But forever you will exist
Until my own curtain call
Then may the Great Beyond dictate
We join forces again
And traverse the Celestial Hall
Form:
You,*
Hard-of-hearing,
Dweller of darkness,
Mother of all evils:
Ignorance!
You, who are unable
To hear the truth,
Even though it is spoken
Through the mouth of
Thunder,
But who easily discern
The fainting whispers
Of monstrous lies!
Why don’t you open, for once,
Your detrimental prison
Of calamitous darkness,
And allow luminous knowledge
To establish its dominion of peace
For the sake of suffering humanity?
© Demetrios Trifiatis
05 November 2015
* FROM MY RECENTLY PUBLISHED BOOK: This poem is one of many poems that are included in my poetry book on peace entitled “ An Aegean Breeze of Peace”
that was recently published by “innerchildpress” and is available at Innerchildpress.com, Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk,
Amazon.fr, Amazon.de, and Amazon.co.jp It is a book that I, Demetrios Trifiatis and co-author, hulya n. Yilmaz, a Liberal Arts Professor at The Pennsylvania State University, has written. Dr. Yilmaz, a wonderful lady whom I consider as my sister, was born in Turkey. As you may know, Turkey and Greece have been at war, on and off, for more than a thousand years. I, for those who do not know me, have got a Ph. D in philosophy, has studied in Canada, and was born in Greece. Dr. Yilmaz and I thought to join forces to write this book in order to let our countrymen and the world know that war is not the answer but peace is! Thank you all peace-loving people for your attention.
Head: I'm the thinker, the planner, the seat of all-knowing
Hand: Yeah? Well I'm the doer, the maker, the one who keeps showing
Head: Books and theories, that's where wisdom lies
Hand: Spare me your lectures, your highbrow surprise
Head: Without me, you're just fumbling in the dark
Hand: Without me, you're just ideas without a spark
Head: I process information, I store every fact
Hand: I turn those facts into tangible act
Head: I calculate, strategise, and plan
Hand: I build, repair, create – yes I can!
Head: But how would you know what to do?
Hand: How would you know if your thoughts are true?
Head: Fine, let's work together, and see what we can do
Hand: Now you're talking! Let's make something new
Head: I'll guide you through the engine's design
Hand: I'll feel each part, make the connections align
Head: I'll recall the theory of how it should work
Hand: I'll tighten each bolt, no task I'll shirk
Head: With every piece, I'm mapping it out
Hand: With every touch, I'm erasing all doubt
Head: I'm learning the system, the flow, and the order
Hand: I'm building the skill, becoming smarter
Head: Together, we're solving, and innovating too
Hand: Together, we're making the impossible true
Head: I admit, your work helps me understand
Hand: And your knowledge guides my every command
Head: In this dance of doing, we both have a part
Hand: Theory and practice, that's when learning starts
Both: So let's join forces, no more separation
Head and Hand united, that's true education!
In the act of handling, in the thrill of thought
That's how real wisdom is sought and bought!
The lion, as king of the jungle, did convene
the biggest meeting of animals you have ever seen.
There were rhinos and kangaroos from down south,
and a polar bear with forty-two teeth in his mouth.
Fish swam in from the sea, and birds flew from the sky.
Even the turtle set his watch and, on time, dropped by.
The news was carried by the waves and the breeze.
In solidarity, they were joined by plankton and trees.
Yep, everyone was there, from predator to prey.
The lion had some serious concerns to convey.
He opened his great mouth. He spoke and he roared,
"We must solve our problem. Are you all aboard?
A virus has spread across the planet of earth.
We must join forces to fight it for all we are worth.
This coward will kill us with guns and greenhouse gasses.
It's time for the rising of the animal masses,
or the only plant or animal that remains
will live in an ugly city or farm, domesticated in chains.
We've identified the pathogen. We now need a plan
to eradicate the ape who calls himself man.
We must locate this creature's Achilles heel
and take down the one who thinks he's a big deal.
Let's send him to kingdom come, leaving not a trace,
to give earth's kingdom back to us, its rightful place.
We know the beast is morally bankrupt and cruel.
How can we purge him and start our renewal?"
An owl said, "man is uniquely dumb and deluded.
Have you ever seen such stupidity exuded?
All we have to do is leave the humans be.
Our enemy will do himself in, don't you see?",
and then he added with a hoot and a sigh,
"but first, how many of us will have to die?"
Let’s hear three cheers for the decade of disinfectant!
Clean out your insides with cheap vodka!
Blow your brains out with Nirvana!
Your breath reeking of teen spirits,
Does weed count as a vegetable?
You’re getting your five a day,
Candyman on the corner
Selling sweets for afters,
Don’t forget the medicine cabinet buffet,
Your mother’s migraine pills,
And faded Ritalin packets,
From the good old days,
We are the children,
Of the Children of the Revolution,
The Harbingers of Revulsion,
And the Standard Bearers of Revolvers,
Desperate for you to know how much we don’t care,
Something’s wearing secret holes inside us,
Nuclear fallout?
The brainfry radiation from our phones?
A big ass moth chewing at our soul fabric,
Fill them up with whatever’s close to hand,
Smoke and smut and other people’s bodies,
There’s a virus swimming in our systems,
Pump it full of alcohol,
Drink it, drown it, bleed it out,
A stolen bottle of Jacks and a bargain basement penknife,
That oughta do the trick,
Living for the weekend,
Cheap thrills and easy kicks,
How’s that for a creed to live and die by,
We are the future,
Headmasters and Principles of the world join forces,
And spread the good word,
Patrons of pontification,
They preach to us about keeping America united,
And Britain great,
Well hold ‘em high!
Put your hands in the air like ya just don’t care!
We’ll return the favour and pump the lot of them full of pills
Of the plumbum variety,
That’ll edu-ma-cate ‘em.
That’ll learn ‘em good and proper!
We don’t like Mondays.
Form: