A star once floated from East to West
He now punishes those who abuse their power
Snarling under his hook of a nose
The fire orange sun beats down on his blood red goblin face.
His bark is a thunder bolt
Honor is his name and he will cease at nothing to preserve it
From the Heian to Tokugawa, through the surrender of ‘45
From countless Seppukus to the Yasukuni Shrine
He flew through the night which followed Abe’s killing
He watched with disdain when the troops raided Nanjing
“Call me ugly as you wish, but you are the true pigs of the sky,” he said
“With your bombs and swords you have given me endless work”
The flying dog is here to stay, and to judge all who make evil
His face will float above forests and decorate museums
Do not be the reason why the red goblin glows
Do not let this mighty flying dog make an example of your money hungry soul
He will haunt you like no other as he has for centuries
Bow to your masters, and maintain your dignity
Or whatever is left will be ripped and turned into dust
By the flying dog who they call “Tengu”
Dad, I had Great Desires
........................................
Dad, I had great desires:
Traveling Nanjing and Sanmachi Suji.
Stonehenge , Historic Yorkshire and Lake District .
Morocco and Istanbul .
African wilderness in winters .
Pacific and Atlantic , in a giant Titanic-like ship .
Caribbean islands , and Chicago's glimmering nights.
Alexandria , Athens and Rome .
Building big farms :
Cultivating vegetables , growing chicken , cattle , sheep and goats and duck.
Employing poor countrymen , shepherds.
Watched by bear-like dogs
In moonlit and gloomy nights .
That Editor may call it to be like Dr Faustus ;
And you utter madness .
Oh God! I would call these failures as lessons ,
Stepping stones but
This long life seems to me so short --
Slippery as fishes in a hillside stream .
As a hanging icicle melting
In continual drops in sun.
And my beard has begun to grow grey ....
They say it's an indication of age!
A dead baby lays in the middle of the road
her mother decapitated, blood seeps into the river -
A piece of bamboo and a broken bayonet
one penetrates the rectum, the other,
a man's head -
The water is stale, bitter, and putrid
a corpse washes up on shore -
a young boy, his skull smashed in
blood on the butt of a rifle -
A sword, a decapitated torso
rotten flesh, a mass grave
hands mounted to a poll
spoiled meat, rotting in the sun....
Nanjing
As willows weep along the walls
And fall mums start to bloom
The wind still echoes hallowed
calls
From Nanking's souls of doom
With little food and daily raids
There was no safety zone
From genocide of men and
maids
For none were left alone
Their butchered bodies
everywhere
Lay piled in ponds and roads
In bloody streets a river there
Flowed heavy 'neath the loads
This holocaust was filmed that
day
Priest John Magee did plod
Now as his son he too could say
He "touched the face of God".
©deborah burch
02.28.2013
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