Font Color='#880000'The Greatest Shame/Font - Poem by David Zvekic
Between the desolate sweet, the lies pile pressed
With human misery, subjected hate;
Where from the henge, whose crippled souls-oppressed
Were trampled long before and most of late.
So bred an altered heir, distempered fate,
And born from wild rustling savage strife
To swoon the million skies, the stars conflate
To spoil an orb not yet despoiled by life-
The fragile canopy of nature's tarnished fief.
What once wore luscious green from cliff to dale;
Once blooming infinite in verdant grace;
With vegetation vast, a trembling veil
Of tree and bower, fields of rolling space;
Where roving spirits hid their bashful face,
And superstition paid respect to these;
The seasons wove the land and human race,
As life beheld, as feathers in the breeze:
To blow across a virgin Earth - that yet knew peace.
With alternating hues of wind and warm,
With kisses of a world in kind repose,
The winter's wonted frost was tempered harm,
And every summer lost was loves' to lose;
Where air did clearly bear the brightest muse
As flower-cups (soft splash of flowers' touch)
Saw butterflies aloft and bees abuzz;
The millions fluttered fertile; life was such;
And all was truth and all was feel and all so much.
While dawn, from darkness brought a blazing sun,
The spring, a shimering pool where spirits strived;
Each breath, the wondrous sound of lovebirds' song;
Each path, an unwalked trail whence dreams arrived.
No other hearth but these, no wrath survived;
The whole of growing earth was lorn to heed;
All senses overwhelmed, over blushed, alive;
The sky to seldom mar by violent deed
Until the jealous mind bequeathed a bitter weed.
IT, taking root, did spread and coalesce
As fear does spread, contagion and vile;
To worry waning power's need, caressed
On weaker knees, and cowards' bones to trial.
And scratching to derange, and breed hostile,
What once was man's province, community,
That spawned the foulest fear, most rotted guile,
As hate should overbear when hatred's free:
The mantra of a love deranged bore mankind's greed.
And taken with it, foul blight and harm,
To pry between the hopes that peace should bare,
The slinking slaughter of the spineless swarm-
Ill-thinking, out of sight, but always there;
That skulks in shadows, mute, but well aware
Of hatred's yoke, of envy's waking girth;
It gathers paranoia to its lair,
And calculates a doctrine for the Earth:
A scheme to order all for it - all likened to its worth.
The wind wore grey, and no more sun was shown;
No light, no warmth, no truth except in vain;
When craftiness made plenty flee its home,
And every heart was hooked in rain, in rain.
Then happiness and bliss wore hatred's mane,
Bore misery as right - of spite and dark;
Each quiet hour trapped in kicking pain,
All breathing heard as hunger - ragged, stark:
The brightest star, the fondest dream, the basest spark.
Such streaking short but intermittent rays,
Few momentarily, amidst the stars;
Some shooting speck of cosmic stuff arrays
The road between a dream and abject horror.
Would evermore revolted Powers bar
The truth, by hateful cameras' rolling blaze,
To hurl the advertiser's holy war,
To bind the human soul to a trademarked face?
Scorned within the heart, damned to the corporate haze.
What passed before this eve that souls covet?
These fragile morsels, fallen out of reach?
How soon, the season's bloom tastes desolate
When lovers' vows would others' love impeach.
No pin will ever vainly prick or preach
As booming accusations claimed in lust;
For hearts that are not tightly veiled, beseech,
And jealousy rails always beyond trust-
To glare intent as every rose appears as dust.
But gasping there, within the choking smog,
Some souls continue crazed to persevere;
Sheer desperation cleaves the putrid fog
Lest poor Humanity should disappear.
To know the Truth when almost none will dare,
And speaking, most will wail a spiteful cry:
For hopes that ridicule assembles fear
And fear assembled shuns the public eye.
So hear the Truth, although in hearing all joys die.
Each thought is born with nary cautious care,
Prepacked for use, an Information's Age;
When truth is aught but what's reported there,
The TV anchor bests the wisest sage.
And so reporting can distort the page,
What news is to and fro, and thus debate
Whatever angle power serves to wage,
Or serving power, Kings and Queens of late.
Or coined, less nobly so - The Lords of Human Fate.
Oh, Stories for the Children sold by Thieves-
Wild fantasies transmitted streaming bright
That soar the waves to sow what Dogma sees,
With Logos shining glitz by neon light,
These propogandized beauties rule the night
So underfunded scholars apprehend
Between the gulps, a Soda-Troth of spite-
Brief factoids feeding undernourshed minds;
A diet of brackish greed leaves every child behind.
Plod still Imperialists through Paradise,
To split the Corporate tool accounted for;
Each quanta's brief respite is optimized:
Far better for the rich, though all be whored.
And what of poverty? There's none are poor,
For even we who starve, consume TV;
And though we never read words anymore,
The Media shows us all we think, for free-
No thought survives alone in this society.
Our President is Ruler and Supreme;
His Faith and Service are synonymous
With Right; he sees the Light; the Truth blasphemes
For quiters guide by doubt, while God guides us.
The Signs are written unambiguous:
A Holy-Mandate, Patriots can see;
While those who second-guess, breed cowardice;
If you won't support our war, you ought'a leave-
The Truth gives aid and comfort to our Enemy.
For is not Faith the Crown of life's wellspring?
Rejecting Proof (what others wish to see):
We stand in Line; We Chosen people bring
God's Light, derived from Might and Policy.
What others policize is blasphemy,
And so to straight the records they will die;
Detractors of The Faith must not be free
To spread their wicked views, their evil eye.
I know: Commercials taught me so, and Ads don't lie.
So what cannot be proved let Faith confide
In All-American values, tolling loud;
Behind such corporate tripe all truths deride,
And what is truly good is disavowed.
What Freedom ever meant is not allowed
When only Faith is free and Mind is slaved;
What keeps the free man mute, keeps Zealots proud-
No freedom to refuse: his God's obeyed.
The world may end quite soon; at least we're getting saved.
O, what distorted view was ever true
Except in prayer, where no life depends
On knowing what was done and what to do,
And finding it be none - lets fools pretend?
The Truth can not be moved as Wants amend;
Its firmament is set, objective, real,
But shake it off enough - perspectives bend
To be not what is what, but what fools feel.
A lier and a tool to yearn what tools reveal.
But what can we obtain for Earth's fair good,
While fear and polished lies disseminate?
Throughout the night some hidden truths withstood
To vie the storm between their Lords' debate.
Just hatch some anger and the public mood
Will veer from left to right at faintest prod.
Our fears appease the hungriest need for food;
Our Ruler's faith: the apostate's need for God.
Wherefore no Con should e'er be fooled by his own Fraud.
Historic Europe has a clarion past;
Her trumpets clamour proud at Heaven's Door.
Since Holy Rome had hearkened her first blast,
The chantry of the Reich at constant war;
As Zealot Kings on angels' wings set soar,
And under Papal pennons pagans cry,
As raging flames consume forbidden lore,
The Inquisitions meet; heretics fry.
The First Reich's holy kings were not the last to lie.
With blood stained Faith, the Lance of grief's crusade,
To liberate a Savior's land of birth,
To crush and consecrate what there was made,
Pretending holy land was better worth.
And in the throes of fraud, infectious mirth
Takes hold (the gloomy germ of man's disease) :
That Mother Church stands over Man and Earth;
Her 'Uber Alles' peals the knell of these:
A war for God pays better dividends than peace.
So to the east, and west and south and north,
Crusaders fly and wield their Righteous scourge,
Converting savages across the earth;
Civility to ruin, both converge.
In Christian Woe, by Christian's Holy Purge,
No other Destiny's as Manifest;
On native blood and scalps we fuel the surge;
In poxy ashes Charities invest-
The untamed savages can move off further west.
Oh God! Oh God! Whatever guise you take,
Give us a sign! We pray! We pray! We pray
So much it seems there's been some grave mistake.
Our prayers we gave for peace and still we pray!
If water was prayer, land would wash away,
If light was prayer, the sun would be washed out,
The night would never be, but bright as day;
And yet the bullets fly and blood-wells spout.
Though prayer may sue for peace - all Tyrants are devout.
Let misery be abject and alone!
Where cinders cry each breath of acrid air,
What aberration calls this pit its home
While human flesh is tagged and butchered there?
What true humanity would linger here?
Executives of Eagles, black and red.
What light remains within? no heart should bear
The glow of human ovens being fed,
Or beat despite the tortured wails of living dead.
So hear the death-sworn hills, the rain of great
Bright searing moans and bands of bigots bold;
Black furnaces enflamed by searing hate:
The kerosine of greed's ignoble hold.
Their screams! Oh that they burn desperately cold,
But learn the Fortress Empire's awful rule:
Indifference to the Tyrant's peerless hold,
Turns every hand to the Gestapo's tool.
Dark clouds of fatty ash pollute self-righteous rule.
Oh Horror! Patience was eternity
To bring its stream of succor and resolve,
To bare all welts as were tranquility,
To wear each insult, but with care absolve.
What trembling fear and worry would devolve
To prominence throughout the selfish heart?
What perjury or borrowed tears convolve
To stoke the ready kindling of the Despot's art?
Near and always lurking by to work its foul part...
And yet, Humanity did find its way,
If only temporarily, to live,
To muster docile fat, to burn away
The grin that imbecility does give;
An inkling moment finaly to strive,
And pull the brake on Terror's rampant train.
Perhaps some desperate souls might yet survive
To bear the memory of its Horrid reign.
For History unlearned must soon be learned again.
What interactions bind their fate together?
At night each flame burns brighter it would seem;
No torch may hoard its flame, or blaze forever
Til every eye draws sight from the same scene.
Each wick interred in envy drips its beam;
Against itself all candles die exposed:
The solitude where hate's expressions gleam,
And countless snuffed out tapers decompose;
A flame burns brightest in darkness unopposed.
Or through the darkest envy, hearts could peer,
And gently by, all shadows could rescind;
When light casts light on light dark disappears
(It knows no vantage where these auras blend) .
And through the sharing, fear may know an end;
Each seperate flash, combined - a steady glow;
When tempered souls entwine all harm could mend,
For bound together, Man's horizons grow;
Each distant dream would, but for lack of caring, show.
But since the Reich's third rise and third conceit
That left her Empire blasted, bleached as bone,
While thirty million corpses strode her street
To witness ancient Europe pale to none,
Since sacred halls fell crumbling down to stone,
To all unswayed, an Angel's gall assumed:
AMERICA, contender for God's Throne;
What cannot be forgot, the Right resumed:
The ashes of a Holy Fascist Empire plumed.
Allies in War against the Rising Sun,
The Vietminh were serfs to France, enthralled;
Their greatest General bore the name of Ho Chi Minh,
And sought for homeland what is sought by all:
An independant nation made equal,
In peace to find its self made destiny,
Amongst the World of sovereign nations all;
A chance to build an unfettered society.
Compelled to the interminable race
Each step bespoke a dreary impudence,
What culture might persuade by a kinder face,
Was knocked by the rules that mere Dominoes mince.
All corporate eyes grew wide in fervor since,
The scare of an Indochinese seperate fate,
Might push the others (all sheep) off the fence,
And soon all of Asia may perturbate,
To dare and slip the shackles of a Client State.
Yes! Let us watch the Mighty Eagle Soar-
Her pinions spread like fear that Terror brings;
Her wrathful flights of fury storm each shore
As Purity and Vengeance bend her wings.
All hail what struggle wreathed the Right in Pain,
As souls grow black and once bright minds fall bleak.
Concealed by Faith, all Eagles fly the same-
To liberate Ideal, and dull the Meek.
A screeching tale of Rapture feeding off the weak.
In darkness hear the engines' passing cry,
The rolling thunder of the Eagles' scream
Before the warbling tone of missiles fly
And detonations blight a city's hell-scene.
A burst, a bomb, a boom, a shattered dream;
What wheeping lamentations speak the night?
What sobbing peace endears spilled blood to stream
As tortured innocence is turned from light?
As Gods Invisible express their ire and Right.
With trembling racks their armoured columns roll;
Their blinking eyes and optic systems train
To scan each bank, each grotto, den and knoll
Passed in the night to Iraq's urban main.
So hole up patriots and feel our pain;
How silent and invisible your plight
That hones to screeching death in night's terrain
To loose the hand that kills you without sight.
There is one hope for you poor souls: give up your fight...
For violence and despair shore up our dreams;
Cursed hospitals and schools shall crumble down;
All riches from the Public coffer streams
To War; Spin every wallet upside down.
Our warriors clad by night raze every town
To prove the shock and pride of those whose creed
Is death and pain and profits most renowned:
The weapon dealer's heaven - Life for Greed!
That ancient bloodied treasure chest of all hate's seed.
For was a single terrorist around,
Where these Iraqi children sang and played,
Before the cluster bombs erupted ground,
And shred their little bodies where they lay?
Could any happiness erase the day
That horror laughed, and flights of angels roared?
Oh GOD almighty! Let my DEATH allay
Our sisters', mothers', brothers', fathers' scorn!
Another middle eastern TERRORIST is born.
The Jews, The Pagans, Atheists and Swine
Will not believe; Their hearts and eyes are sealed.
For great great God has given us the Sign!
SUBMIT all life! Rejoice the sanguine zeal!
We fear the flames of Hell: we're under heel;
Dead Prophesy survives by holy toil.
The Words - are true! Rejoice the ancients' sqeal!
Be praised! Be praised! He blessed us with the Oil.
The land is barren waste, while Regents bathe in spoil.
And so for Faith, he means ALL to destroy;
Humiliation knocks him to his knees,
To smite each life, each gentle girl, each boy,
And watch it die, that vengeance might appease.
Or when the blood has washed, to find surcease
For murders sown in hate's unyielding strain;
Is it not good for aught but to achieve
Another check in our pathetic Game?
That makes us but a minor pawn - our greatest shame.
Could any being smile upon the Crime
That Faith was nothing more than hate's excuse?
Or think that even entities divine,
Would see some worth in least of life's refuse?
Was any theory ever so obtuse?
The fear of God that Martyrs never bring:
When bombs and body bags infect the news,
The only thing that quakes is hatred's spring.
Their passions make the weapon-man a Prophet King.
When capital investment must be laid
In roads, in water, food and civil store,
How could such bloody profit still be made
Off terrible miscarriages of war?
With oil-wells ablaze, the dollars pour
To grease with flaming founts, a black parade;
The cost-plus profit compensations soar
To Serve (and to be handsomly repaid):
A bag of No-Bid dollars, wanting to be made.
And every penny shall be paid in full,
And more than full (for what our contract says) ,
When corporate officers unveil the wool
To blind the public to their franchizes.
No guarantee too bold for excesses,
No corporate burden is too small to bear,
The People man the lines of war trenches;
The Company is 'happy' to take you there,
Or sell an oak-wood casket to your bereaving heir.
Away! Away! Each lesson torn away
By strains of supersonic ricochet;
The drops of sweat, the heart throb's bursting spray;
The gurgling gasp of bubbling lungs, they pray
Aghast as Coalition shadows play.
Hard flashing thumbs as rumbling guns repeat;
The Toll: a life, each other dusted in the fray;
The Claim: oblivion's solitary seat.
The only prize in Paradise is man's defeat.
As caskets crack, the cargo bays o'er flow
With fallen martyrs slain in distant land;
The charred remains reveal what we can't show:
What dies for causes no-one understands.
A banner flutters in a desperate wind,
Its stars are drenched in blood, but cannot rust;
The trajedy of war will never end
While ignorance will bear the price of lust;
The less our horrors show, the more In God We Trust.
To live as People, proud and strong and free,
The grandest aspiration ever was;
'Til War had groomed such strong economy,
No Army could be mustered without cause,
And only those in just respect of laws,
Decreed United Nations, large and small:
That War is left to last resort because
The greatest one did almost end them all.
But now we've got THE BOMB so it will be our call.
It lurks unbent beneath the languid sea
In silence, deep, inaudible and dread;
Propellers twirling gaseous cavity
As pressures strain against its armoured bulkhead.
And at command some million million dead
Will mark and witness mankind standing by
As Nuclear Detente explodes o'erhead,
And blood from flesh, entire countries fry
To crumble once again beneath a burning sky.
With furious intensity, clothes ignite,
So bright death penetrates all layers of skin;
With tembling, but extreme ecstatic light
Young bodies born to burst and broil within.
And smashing swift to fold and flatten in,
The shockwave stampedes life, like wind swept leaves.
If thermal flash did not quite delve you in,
Children, family-pets, loved-ones, friends and trees:
The luckiest die quick - the rest by slow disease.
The lingering rot as innocence decays,
Irradiated, sterilized by Right,
While from the gaping flesh brown puss arrays,
Dead tissues twist in agonizing plight.
All dripping fluid tainted in the sight,
Incinerated retinas and eyes,
Too near the bloom to turn and face the light,
Too far away to sear and simply die;
Their final vision was a mushroom in the sky.
Not since the Dawn of Reason has endured
Such potent poison onto mankind's kiss;
Atomic energy, with Right averred
To bid war's Rapture be our nemesis.
What hate's so hot? What Spite so cold exists
As that black thorn, incinerates perverse;
As space convolves to unleash Hell's Abyss,
The throngs of demons quake - Man's hell is worse;
Its love offends us all, and all who love are cursed.
And though all is believed, all is not fair:
When millions die, another million goad,
For freedom's favor is unwelcome where
The Corporation smells the mother load.
Our crime does cling to each congested road;
While train tracks lie unused, and transport trucks
Deploy that route with but a fractions load,
And foul the sky with Oil Barrons' muck.
Perhaps we thought to pump the auto-maker's buck?
The Halls of Power throng with grabbing hands,
When freedom's wings unfurl commoditized
By unwashed Tyrant Kings and bloody bands,
Who bare the seeds of needs unrealized;
To learn that hunger cloaks uncomprimised,
For cold is freedom robed by poverty,
When license flows to those most privatized
In greed's pursuit to wield supremacy;
Not all who live and die want merely to be free.
Who paved an interstate where trains would serve?
Who spread the asphalt black, to rubber heel?
Whose oil spilled while protest was reserved?
And why is Freedom's idol the Automobile?
Who toiled to till the land to driver's wheel?
Mass Transit was a dream more glorious,
But 'Profit Over People' signs the Deal,
We sold the Cable-Car, to lease a Bus.
It's loud and needs fresh pavement like the best of us.
Each border builds a pallisade of pain
A bulwark laid midst kin and humankind,
That fools on either side, so staid, remain,
Lest hither comes their enemy contrived.
The borders are relaid computerized,
Erected no more safe than moats of yore,
Against the truer threat unpublicized:
Whose evils slip right through an unlocked door,
And glowers dark above us: The Corporate megastore.
Construction jobs paid by the Public yield,
Build every lane and street from field to town,
A fact that is so utterly concealed,
For being silent, Corporate liens abound.
Then on the Hill a starving Congress sounds,
Another bill to fund and clear the way
For that Great Lie, that Corporate Freedom found
The means to build a nation strong and free:
The Corporate is at war against Democracy.
What is forbidden lest the profits fade -
To put the good of many before one -
Or risk what riches previously made,
Except that insofar as caring's done
As prostitutes may fawn on everyone,
With fraudulent affection or such more,
While at the dollars end pick up and run.
The corporate giver preening at the door
Cares not except for those whose wallet pays the whore.
Distilled by published press, the stationary
Of Treaties thrown, intentions ill withstood;
The Wealth of Nations built of monetary
Policies the laymen haven't understood.
All banking laws and tax reforms make good
An honest brokerage of dishonest show,
For as dishonest fiscal policy, they should
But undermine the mundane man, and sow
That to the richest, being riches, riches flow.
And so to pump, we must all, slave and slave;
An honest day of work for paltry wage
To scrape together what we cannot save;
Life toiled away so human needs assuage.
The need to feel the wind blow through our cage,
Its bars of fear imposed from nine to five
By Corporate masters who, so slight to rage,
Would cut the workforce. Is labour not alive?
When hope has been let go, where does the soul arrive?
A Government is nothing without right,
The People in themselves hold sovereignty,
But never yet so much, were held in spite,
As when The State became The Company.
A Government too frail, feeds Tyranny,
But overwrought and bloated, shares the blame:
That market powers breed Monopoly,
That Corporate minds will dream not right but gain.
The People must be free! The Democrat must reign!
But oh, how highly loathed, blasphemous dream!
Where all stand equally in legal might,
And laws are crafted not by God or Queen,
But based upon what to the most seems right.
No agency above all oversight,
The People for its ruling self would choose,
A Government to act in open sight;
The People would be strong, though some refuse.
A State without its People's trust is sore abuse.
The Country and the Flag for which we die
Can blind its citizens with feigned respect;
And pull, with hooks, all noses to the sky
To scoff those meeker lands its rules reject.
We cling onto its breast and so expect
(Without good reason, caring or resolve)
That kindness never shown will still reflect,
And ills we've never known are somehow solved,
And wrongs we wreak again will always be absolved.
For years a P(ack of) W(olves) and Presidents,
Well stained by Oil soaked conspiracy;
Looked to Iraq, a den of sycophants,
To find the flames to raze Democracy.
How long before that stolen Presidency
Did Skeletons array a velvet hall,
Seance a scam for Market destiny
And stage a war, for any cause at all?
Disruption in Iraq will hold mankind in thrall.
For all was known (and well enough to boast)
Of armaments of vapourous portent,
The mass-destruction weapons found no host
In secret domes or stores of dark-intent.
It was a lie - these chemicals were spent
In older wars against a common foe;
We sold the Muse we claimed was never meant
For human lungs to desecrate and throw-
VX-GAS buys Freedom- the Salesman told you so.
Oh, when was Corporatocracy our goal?
This Dunce's mission to a foreign sea;
Ignoring Laws he promised to uphold,
Renaming civil war Democracy.
So finding too few men to daily die,
He armed the Theocrat with Corporate guns.
For Baghdad's treasure then, the dollars fly;
The Secret EDEN: cash for everyone!
The killing still remains although his War is won.
The threat, familiar doom, perverts us all,
The Western World was not the last to learn.
The bravest brow laments in Terror's pall,
When zealots execute and Towers burn.
How Freedom weeps while hidden dollars churn.
Oh Liberty, descend! The People cry!
Our anguished screams, our mothers' touch, we yearn
For dreams we dreamed; no longer there they lie.
Pray, nevermore our leaders' faith with Devils try.
To foist unto the ropes of man: Control;
And lose the rest, a husk, a worthless shell-
Our thoughts, turned bitter bright with greed, extoll,
We'll find the void (our souls we'll lose as well) ,
Or striven to redeem themselves from hell
Might face the question poised, for now and ever:
Can Power rule the key that hopes fortell
Or could Humanity bestow another?
What key unlocks this chain of fear around each other?
So tell us clergymen, how long? how long?
Proud shitten shepherds of a plundered flock
Who, lost, must feed the wolves they live among,
While Vultures rip another feast they've snuck.
How long since last you dusted off your frock?
Its bright transgressions cloak your frathouse Tomb;
Wise-Fools and Begger-Kings might seldom talk:
But dull in death, the spheres of Man still boom.
You never loved your flock - It needn't share your doom.
Though life resumes, it seems to shrink and shrink
(The hours in which a soul finds inspiration) :
So many ways to work, but few to think,
For paper-trails (required by regulation) .
Why should I.D. be shown for transportation?
Who doesn't know their own identity?
A Right would not be apt to revocation
Unless our Freedom is Captivity.
A Licence sees a prison in abeyancy.
Whole worlds will trawl and hold repugnant time,
Ghast jaws apart in loathed astonishment,
That Man, magnificant, evolved, divine,
Could plumb to breed his brother's punishment;
And bridle knowing all Earth's endowment
Was wasted for that basest erzatz gain.
What point was ever self-actualizement,
When all the best his ever found was shame?
His dreams are holes - Herds of Kine grunt His Holey Name.
What life is here where feathers fall in line,
And throw forgotten liberty away?
When dreams persist that mankind should malign
The rights that waver for society?
When Freedom lays to private industry,
Obsessed obeisance to a corporate truce,
And schemes to draft a new Humanity,
To sell itself before the markets close.
Our planet died the day that FREEDOM LOST ITS MUSE.
The form we once imbued has spilled away
Like fingers grasping vain at melting snow;
We've left our home, we've left and lost our way:
The hope our hearts conceived so soon let go.
Oh Trust! That joyful choir of once ago;
'Til friendship bowed to tears, and tears took rule;
What hearts will bear is terrible to know -
The thief within our dreams, our heartstrings pull;
The Tyrant thrives within us, and ever has been cruel.
-started April 12,2006... still in progress
Comments about Font Color='#880000'The Greatest Shame/Font by David Zvekic
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