"fratricide" poems
A torrent gushes from the serpent’s mouth
wave upon breaking wave; it’s ALL fake news
swiftly eroding what is left to lose.
Democracy’s waterlogged corpse drifts south,
a bloated mess; all waters to infuse
with putrefaction, thus to breed disease
uncivil war invades our fantasies;
the polarized extremes now pay their dues.
Propping things up: it’s what they do the best—
business as usual, pawns all occupied
in scaffolding facades upon the West
and sculpting the friezes of fratricide…
but underground, the currents cave away.
Media will fail; God brings a brighter day.
Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 3:03 PM UTC
On a bed in fair mid-May,
Away from school, work, and play,
Lie a young boy devoid of joy,
Trying to break away.
It wrestled, fought, and struggled,
But fatal aims redoubled,
His iron will held them stock-still,
Neither could break away.
Motions were slow and fleeting,
Instinct and Will competing,
To end two pains in different veins,
Crumble and break away.
Strangling a blind reflection,
White-knuckling throats mid-section,
With fratricide, a part had died,
What's left to break away.
Downtown a young man stood tall,
Behind eyes, perturbing pall,
Lie a young boy devoid of joy,
Trying to break away.
Sep 29, 2021
Sep 29, 2021 at 5:42 AM UTC
In a far land known as Pakistan,
in the little town of Prym
Impiety was criminal,
And blasphemy a sin
A Christian woman stood accused
Of impious words and deed-
Did her words insult the Prophet?
Or did her neighbors hate her creed?
Tried and condemned for Blasphemy
in the little town of Prym,
The Christian woman waited,
for the stoning to begin.
The townspeople all gathered round,
pious Moslems one and all.
They chose their weapons from the ground
and awaited Imam’s call.
When suddenly the sky grew dark
The Sun obscured from view
A Nickel Iron stone from space
One, without sin, just threw.
In the place where Prym once stood
is a crater deep and wide.
There is no more impiety.
and no more fratricide.
Take to heart the lesson
Let hatred be unknown
Or next time He who is without sin
may cast a larger stone.
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 8:28 PM UTC
I dug my way through those darkened tunnels,
No fears of what was in the dark.
Only what was following me.
I never knew,
Until it was over.
I'm so sorry,
The way it happened.
I let my anger get the best of me,
And now coyotes feast on undeserving flesh.
Because of me,
Because of her.
I'm sorry mother,
This isnt me.
Forgive me father,
For i've killed my own brother.
Its as if his begging wasnt good enough for me,
As if his soul leaped into my arms.
But it was so wrong,
I killed him with my own hands.
And his skull is a cloud,
Raining blood onto withering blades of grass.
Oh how it drips,
Oh how his heart keeps on pumping it out.
Dear,
Be ashamed.
Baby,
This is partially your fault.
And as i near the end of the tunnel,
My legs give out.
I stand on my knees,
Fingers digging away at this eerie guilt.
I think "I could peel all the skin off my body,
And lay here to rot".
But my own flesh is laying in a nearby field,
And its missing a home.
Sister,
Watch the sky for something brilliant.
Brother,
I'll see you soon.
--------------------------------------------------
Without a proper dirt blanket,
How can you sleep forever peacefuly?
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 8:43 PM UTC
It’s the Wholly Babble!
Obfuscation for the rabble;
Its plagiarized bunk
Delivered in hunks
And carefully rigged
To put lipstick on the pig
That means, at least,
A good living for priests.
So, let’s take a collection
Everyone pays the tab
For a few thousand years
Of indecipherable blab.
Let’s make up stories
That never appeared
And discuss the length
Of God-On-High’s beard.
In the Wholly Babble!
Godly, revered people
You can search and find
Many murderously unkind.
Despicable tales galore
Talking snakes and gore;
****** and genocide,
Infanticide and fratricide.
So, let’s take a collection
Everyone pays the tab
For a few thousand years
Of indecipherable blab.
Miracles are plenty there
To believe every word here
To tempt you with their glory
In the convoluted story
Of two people and two kids
Who did the son wed
When one got married?
From where was she carried?
Let’s make up stories
That never appeared
And discuss the length
Of God-On-High’s beard.
And the saddest thing is
An ‘us and them’ myth is
The idea used to create
An established cause for hate.
It’s your God against mine
Yours is evil, mine is fine.
Now isn’t that a fright
To keep you up at night?
So, let’s take a collection
Everyone pays the tab
For a few thousand years
Of indecipherable blab.
Let’s make up stories
That never appeared
And discuss the length
Of God-On-High’s beard.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 4:02 PM UTC
There was once a man called Richard Megacide
One day, with little provocation, he committed patricide
The jury decided man slaughter, but he soon incurred the guilt of matricide
The following month, we got wind of his act of fratricide
The judge ruled against him, then he carried out homicide
As the entire people began to complain, next was genocide
The king, though spared, didn't keep silent and the story was regicide
That very day, Richard Megacide went home and reasonably committed suicide.
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
Choosing Sides at Kursk
At a railway junction great powers meet
To blacken the earth with a generation
Of young musicians, mechanics, physicians
Electricians, farmers, painters, and poets
And the philosopher who loves to fish
Ground into blood and screams and scraps of flesh
By the future which some have seen, and works
For the dress-uniform closed loop of power
So choose a side which is no side; you must
Choose a side choose a side fratricide
No
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
It's not that I'm silent I'm, rather,
lost for words
Because this series of events are the worst I've heard,
In a minute.
this is more than simply "under the weather" because this is a divine tragedy.
A story ,of the battles, of vassals, retainers and traitors;
heavens tribulations and its resounding failures.
Shocked; What took days, now hours.
The pettiest wrath is one born from wanting, fraudulent men exhibiting the worst of fruedian plans
and add a Hate:
born from nations divided, in ways outsiders decided: for the pay;
to make use of the weak till this day,
I can't comprehend this.
It's like the collective consciousness has taken cyanid the: matricide, fratricide, parricide and pedicide; is this an attempt of suicide?
Can't imagine terras eyes, Being terrorized by the homies side
blighting it's own kin, queens and this King's pride.
Is this blaze worth it's years to come when you burn away the blood that flows through us all and purge the graces we won,blessed with a unity, cursed by sub division, the delusions they built dictate how we liv'in.
I can't lie, at times like these I can only try an fly
forced to contemplate the irreconcilable and the priceless how can I evaluate the hate when I know it's love that elevates, so...
how can I;
I'm on the hated and hatful side, oh my what a time, what a time, to be alive.
Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 10:15 PM UTC
When will they see
the hawkish types are no more
able to fly than they are loving
of the earth and her animals
scampering on two legs,
swimming deep, flying on a flap
of any kin, of any breed
with pulsing blood and thoughts
of open pasture and blue sky and
peace based in love for sisters and brothers
with the same blood; the same mother watching
matricidal fratricide again and again
and again, children flailing without learning the secret
whispered in her wind
moaned in her shifts
echoed by her current
falling in her rain
so politic and briny
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 3:25 AM UTC
I take the turn into a country
I don't understand,
I understand history though
and how through corridors of time
people found breathing space. I take this turn
and learn bit by bit history.
Invaders came, they rested breathed its fire
its lust and its homes covered by ornate palaces.
There were love stories as well,
dynastic rulers, fratricide and battles
I can hear those gunshots and while travelling
by train once in Haldighat, the battle field splashed
with blood, mine yours, of a country.
History, the word shakes contours of being.
The word turns around
and asks:
Is this me, the country?
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC
J'ai vu pendant trois jours de haine et de remords
L'eau refléter des feux et charrier des morts
Dans une grande et noble ville.
Le tisserand, par l'ombre et la faim énervé,
De son dernier métier brûlé sur le pavé
Attisait la guerre civile.
Le soldat fratricide égorgeait l'ouvrier ;
L'ouvrier sacrilège, aveugle meurtrier,
Massacrait le soldat son frère ;
Peuple, armée, oubliaient qu'ils sont du même sang ;
Et les sages pensifs disaient en frémissant :
Ô siècle ! ô patrie ! ô misère !
Durant trois nuits la ville, hélas ! ne dormit plus.
Tous luttaient. Le tocsin fut le seul angélus
Qu'eurent ces sinistres aurores.
Les noirs canons, roulant à travers la cité,
Ébranlaient, au-dessus du fleuve ensanglanté,
L'arche sombre des ponts sonores !
Ah ! la nature et Dieu, devant l'humanité,
Même étalant leur grâce avec leur majesté,
N'empêchent pas ces tristes choses !
Car ces événements se passaient, ô destin,
Sur les bords où Lyon à l'horizon lointain
Voit resplendir les Alpes roses.
Le 4 septembre 1841.
433
Though to lead
WHO chosen,
My moral frozen,
Perpetrators of genocide
And fratricide
From my ethnic side
I have to support
Abusing my
Diplomatic power
In a bid
They continue to use
On Ethiopians
Political cyanide.
I have to seek
From Egypt
Heavy weapons support
Oblivious tomorrow
My likes and I
Will appear before
The international criminal court.
Nov 18, 2020
Nov 18, 2020 at 1:19 AM UTC
Pushing the ground away - with iron cutoff
The sough interlight of toller - outgoes
From islands - floating - in the choir
Collisions - of world state waves
Counteract - of contradictions
Forgot to remember - throughout from the depths
Eroded - fractures - cuirass of theirs - is moss
And shrouded - with sprouting - cold wrists
Dew trails - hands flooded -
To wash the soot of the blood from one's face -
Up to phalangeals - lacerated - spring of pyrexia
Mindbreak - helplessly curdled
Seeing - far-heading stabs to inhale
Trouncing to raise - the head up -
In the fratricide craving
Hum - and of body parts - ocean
Blind sea-gulls - skrike - and anthracites'
****** - is in embrace interlocked
Drogues - are not eaten to bone - and no brink-
Of - he-li-o-cen-tri-cly driven -
Mound - and weak swellings -
Nauseating headrush
Endowing to - entrails - of cascade
Dissonance - limbs - apart
Feb 21, 2025
Feb 21, 2025 at 6:36 AM UTC
convened
in my living room
summoned to a setcat
to decide by voulbee or fratricide
the next Father of Thieves.
Blahznivee Semyon rises up
like a winter sun over the steppe
peels off his sable coat and hat
he garnishes round after round of applause
for his tattooist's magnificent skill,
and the number of skulls etched in his skin
one skull for every ****
Arkady the Krahsnee comes to the front
draws a cross across his chest,
wipes caviar from his pickled lips
sheds his necklace of bloated tongues ripped
from the mouths of informants who sing
and with a halo of bicycle chain whirling overhead
steps drunkenly into the ring
The display turns black
chairs are pushed back
***** in every hand.
The soldiers prepare
with a toast and a prayer
and a drop of blood from each man.
Now squaring off
Dva Rusahky:
a fat taloostee,
the other slim-tenki
wade into the fray:
bez nervee, t-shirts, boatkee or fear
they destroy my hanging chandelier
their bratvas stand around and cheer
pass round smokes and mugs of beer.
Černobog’s hammer sits
inside a chalk line circle
like an ********
waiting for a fist.
Black stars collide
shoulders knees torsos
wheel thrown into ****** slabs
hole punched and wire cut
falling on cigarette butts
nicotine thumbs empty eye sockets
vitreous runs and pools
seeps into screaming mouths
through mangled cheeks.
Teeth litter my rug
like chiclets in berry jam.
Here's a finger,
make a splinter
wounds are washed
in chilled Żubrówka.
Semyon lifts the hammer, the winner
a new skull in his flesh, still wet
when he buys my silence
with a Russian dinner
and a round of Russian roulette.
Feb 19, 2021
Feb 19, 2021 at 3:32 PM UTC