Nationalism Poem by Peter (Prof) Fox

Before written time
All over the world
A warrior was made
Raised up from the earth

Impelled by men's hope
An image of strength
Defending with us
Our homes and our pride

Then put to slumber
In shadows alive
King Arthur or George
A saviour or saint

But warped wizard minds
Looking for power
Dig up the legend
To use for their own

In some dark dungeon
Out of a furnace
A puppet is dragged
Without any strings

Clothed as an icon
Driven by not-things
The golem 's abroad
And leeching our brains

A head that is carved
Two embers for eyes
Red brick muscled skin
Two hammers for hands

Not alive. Not dead
No thought with no brains
No song with no throat
No pride with no kin

It's not a machine
There isn't a brake.
It isn't alive
No one has a leash

The words in its head
Are simple and clear
Unite one and all
By building on fear

It asks for each child
to be brain-washed and
then given the toys
we use to kill men

Games in the playground
Are bent for the state
Skipping to marches
Love turned to hate

It seeks pretty maids
To do awful deeds
And lively schoolboys
to make vicious thugs

Gossipy women
become screaming hags
Sensible tradesmen
now hope for a fight

Daily rants feed it
In the red-top press
Fires of hatred built
By the wealthy class

War is good for arms
Profit can't be bad
Dead people do not
hurt the bottom line

War is good for news
Shock upon the page
Pavlov would be proud
To hear the mass bay

Round we go again
With no end in sight
Anger management
Now means something else