"mesopotamia" poems
Pharaoh Tutankhamun graced the Egyptian throne,
A ***** brisk and spry.
From his majestical hands, dangled a scepter
And on his handsome head, sat a crown.
His empire was at its peak
For he wielded influence all over africa.
The bearded Europeans and nubianS sought his protection
For egypt, was a haven.
So organised was the land:
Amun-re and maat protected the people,
The country grew with the help of viziers.
Agriculture was a noble profession in the land,
As her economic markets were the best in the world
Egypt gave light to Greece and Mesopotamia
For her civilisation altered many a life.
And also, was the birth place of man
Such, was the land of egypt
The middle ages stroke and Europe went to sleep
But mama africa gave birth to many strong children:
Ghana, Mali, Songhai and many more
These children shoke the world with their riches and organisation.
Such was the history that africa recorded before they came.
Fredriech Hegel in want of speech said:
“Africa never had a history before the whites came.”
Such a mediocre declaration from an illiterate
For in place of his brain, graced a kidney.
Africa was well civilised before the bearded people came:
We had a religion
We had education as seen in egypt
We had a well organised system in all aspects.
We had everything needed for prosperity,
We attracted them with our gold, thus they came.
But most of all, we believed in equality.
Such was africa before they came
But when the bearded people came,
They altered our ways and put us in stocks
Then said: “we had no history.”
Oblivious that africa had made history,
BEFORE
AND BEFORE
THE
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 7:39 AM UTC
we are going
this day in the gentle light
master and bullock
down the dusty path
an anonymous villager
and his sturdy bullock
far in a village in India
for there’s work to be done
like many a villager has done
and beast and master
out determined in the days
when the land must be worked
to nurture its people
across China, Egypt and Mesopotamia
and nameless lands
they have done this
and we do
now this day that is ours
through the winding ways
to the fields
to the end of the day
I the villager and you the bullock
Come, we shall work the fields
as countless have done
and as many more will come to do
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 6:54 PM UTC
To my old School Teacher and a historybook….
At primary school, I must have been 10 or 11 years old as I saw an image on the page of a history book.
A map of ancient Mesopotamia.
….
From that moment on I had the book with the map right in front of me every day as to get power from the image of the Land of the Two Rivers.
I was a wallflower….living in an almost autistic little world of my own…
My teacher knew I was unlike the others, so much different from all other pupils....
He knew about my thing with 'Mesopotamia'.
He knew about all my fantastic, crazy dreams, my drawings and my incredible stories...they were my only way to escape all the daily misery ....
He knew how my parents neglected me at home, my ferocious dad- always drunk with liquor and my hostile mother whom I seemed to annoy every single minute of her life….
And defendlessly bullied day by day in classroom by the other kids.
He knew so very well how I used to escape in my dreams of remote, imaginary worlds…and how I felt protected by him, my teacher and by that old history book as it laid just in front of me on my desk….open on the page with the map....
And now, as years have passed by...
The school has vanished long ago, the old school building was demolished, as a matter of fact replaced by apartments and a parking lot….
My beloved teacher has passed away years ago and the book with the map has gone too...
But the precious, dear memory is still here….
I will cherish it for as long as I live....
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 6:57 PM UTC
Children of Louisiana,
Swept away and drowned,
In the river’s flood
And the ocean surge.
Never have recovered
Fully from the rain falling down,
And of a city that was purged.
Ignored by the government
And its fellow man,
Follow in a long line of sufferers
Since the melting, ice age glaciers
And even a tsunami in the North Sea
That wiped out Doggerland.
Dark Ages got darker as people ran
And Britain’s white cliffs were sheared.
Times got better and then got worse,
But the people carried on.
Now, the floods are a weekly thing,
A blip on a newscast,
As lost as the victims in a mess
Of other disasters,
Of wildfires, droughts and don’t
Even mention the quaking earth
Or volcanoes! We can’t take credit
For causing those!
Rich men in their castles,
Feasting and clapping each other
On their fatty backs,
Rolling in the spoils and spills
Of oil, on the flaming water of
The American plains.
Sheikhs in old Mesopotamia
Whine about oil pipelines,
Promised to them by President Cheney,
While the people starve.
Bloated oligarchs spread destruction
All over the world, from
The Congo to Chernobyl,
Melting icecaps and raising the sea,
Sinking islands where they don’t live,
Vacationing in the Maldives,
On special rates before those go under.
They won’t fix Miami, but let it sink,
But not before they plunder
The empty towers built on foolish dreams.
Of course, they’ll be the last to go,
Crammed into mansions up in the Alps,
Fighting with the European nobles
Over who gets a crumbling palace
Now sitting on the last ice floe.
A few American cousins round each other up
To catch the Dixie Flyer down to New Orleans,
Trying to hide from the polar vortex,
A dazzling case of ignorance and greed,
Only to find the tracks buried in the sea…
Down in the mud of the deep, brown sea.
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 4:26 PM UTC
-A Psalm Of Johnson Regarding How To Get Saved
Because all have sinned and strayed away from God's path,
We are all deserving of his perfectly just wrath.
But God instead sent his equal to die in our place,
Because he is infinitely full of love and grace.
So in order to escape from your eternal doom,
You must believe God raised Christ from the dead in his tomb!
Dec 25, 2020
Dec 25, 2020 at 1:33 AM UTC
-A lament by the preteen Queen of Mesopotamia.
Late September,
During summer,
My great kingdom was obliterated by raiders.
My poor people,
Young and feeble,
Were all mercilessly butchered by those strangers.
Every temple,
Made of beryl,
Was then looted and set on fire by their archers!
And as for me,
A preteen Queen,
Slavery is now my role for their vile leaders!
Sep 27, 2020
Sep 27, 2020 at 9:53 PM UTC
Symphonic
My fist was first five fingers
Flowing Favonian into the palm of my radiant mother
As cheeky as a sprite, soon I revelled in the
Crisp light of the fridge and all its chilled visitors,
A skin-deep draft last week, a raging harmattan yesterday,
Barren among the fruitless lands of Mesopotamia.
Crawling, my sergeants and I led the way through our childhood fantasies.
Ali Baba's fortress, the ruins of Babylon, and up to the lately perturbed Euphrates.
I dropped my automatic rifle,
hurriedly snatched it up in the unforgiving desolate,
just in time to
narrowly dodge the absent onslaught of enemy gunfire
Only to witness a serpentine strike and an explosive splash
Of metal violating my infantile hand, a hand that was trusted and was caressed
Now merely a bludgeon to satisfy the steel-clawed slash of the shrapnel
A buffer to the skin of my wide-eyed physiognomy.
Waking up in the loose sheets of a completely unremarkable beige bed,
With the deoxygenated breath of the novice surgeon liquidizing in my veins,
It was almost too much to handle (if you'll pardon my pun).
These days it is
The good hand with which I
Uncork, pour, and serve.
It's with the utilizable limb with which I
Ignite, shift, and steer.
It's with my brain that I
seethe
And it's with my stump
That I knock.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
Taming you
trickle by trickle
we're taking you
and
you'll dry
on the hot stones
we're making you
obso
so
obsolete
that's neat...
..and we have to
tame you,
prune you and make you
a ******
you never had much of luck
did you?
When we're through with you,
we'll get a new brand new newer you
and you
never had much of luck
did you?
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC
there's this necklace I wear layered under countless other pendants that hold memory and feeling
it's supposed to be the symbol "the hand of God"
it's supposed to protect me from evil and give me strength
it used to give women strength and power to be healthy and have fertility
why doesn't it help me find the strength to get out of bed in the morning?
what evil eye has it protected me from?
the history says that the sun and moon are eyes of God, that God is everywhere with us
we can never leave the consciousness of God
it's been traced back to early Mesopotamia but maybe I'm just too ****** up to actually receive some sort of help
why do I even bother?
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
You stood in the limelight
before a shaft of blazing luminescence
emitted from the zenith positioned
matrix of all energy
The brightness illuminated your
radiant countenance
as blackness enveloped around your
structures as in a early baroque
by Rembrandt
Your form was made from the finest
materials
But your representatives stood in defiance going beyond
their eroded gardens and
trampled vegetation and beast
underfoot; even defecated plutonium
in my backyard
and belched various gases in my face
Luxury is still your ideology;
all to sure in obtaining
unlimited resources
You are still heavily consuming
the best
still maintaining the frivolous notion
that all is well
never anticipating
that time passes into the future
The shaft of blazing sunlight
has insidiously been replaced
by a blinding interrogation lamp
as darkness licks at your morals
and creeps upon your very being
small cracks are now being discovered upon your once lovely face
No longer can you obtain desirous
riches as readily
as options become minimized,
while playing and bullying a winning serious game of monopoly
against poor countries
Panic is beginning to take hold
as reality overcomes frivolity
You are starting to run,
you have already left one of your golden combat boots
in Vietnam; later pirated black gold
from Mesopotamia
under perjury and severed our nation with the fascistic sword of xenophobia,
and plundered the spirits, at home, and other innocent minorities unjustly
And nationalised yourself from a continent to an island regressing
into itself; homogenized into exceptionalism and the nervous propagandized
gnashing of Caucasian teeth
But doubtless to say
there is no reason
for a prince to save you
because you have gotten too old,
much too corporatised,
too corrupted, too soon, too fast,
YOU MUST SAVE YOURSELF!!
And I know you can
And I know you can
be that lady with that beacon torch of hope...once...again
And whence comes the nourishment of love that flourishes once more...
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 6:58 PM UTC
When the ampersand means more to men and the sword
becomes much mightier than the pen
it's time to leave Mesopotamia alone and
travel down the river, home
to the sea.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 7:07 AM UTC
Some people cast a renewal on themselves
And i ponder almost annoyingly if Witches really do exist
I guess they do when people only have one thing on their mind all the time
Such an empty shell and i don't even want to go inside it
Even if you paid me
She only cares about her looks and wants nothing to do with any man unless he's loaded
He only cares about getting in her pants and off to the next one
They act like they're the best thing to happen since we first walked into Mesopotamia
I just can't stomach any of it
Admit the fact you're going to be just like everyone else when you're dead
Sorry, am i putting truth inside your head?
This is a vitamin that doesn't taste good
Gladly sponsored by me
Where are the human beings?
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
You stood in the limelight
before a shaft of blazing light
emitted from the zenith positioned
matrix of all energy
The brightness illuminated your radiant countenance
as blackness enveloped around your structures as in an early baroque by Rembrandt
Your form was made from the finest materials
But your representatives stood in greedy defiance going beyond their eroded gardens and trampled vegetation and beasts underfoot, even defeacated plutonium in my backyard
and belched various gases in my face
Luxury is your ideology,
all too sure in obtaining
unlimited resources
You are still heavily consuming the best
still maintaining the frivolous notion
that all is well
never anticipating
that time passes into the future
The shaft of blazing sunlight
has insidiously been replaced
by a blinding interrogation lamp
as darkness licks at your morals
and creeps upon your very being
No longer can you obtain desirous
things as readily
as options become minimized
Panic is beginning to take hold
as reality overcomes frivolity
You are starting to run,
you have already left one of
your expensive golden combat-boots
in Vietnam; later pirated black gold from Mesopotamia
under perjury
But doubtless to say
there is no reason
for a prince to save you
because you have gotten too old,
much too corporatized,
too corrupted, too soon, too fast,
YOU MUST SAVE YOURSELF!!
And I know you can
And I know you can
be that lady with that torch again...
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
Sumer, the people of ancient Mesopotamia.
Known to us as nascent humanity;
Spreading across the world quickly,
Like news of a calamity.
They existed thousands of years ago,
A civilisation truly gifted,
Knowledge of whom many of us forgo.
They were but one shade in a kaleidoscope of human presence.
Kings of the Fertile Crescent –
Establishing empires or mastering commerce,
Starting fires or learning to converse.
Mankind in its infancy,
A bloom of activity and artistry.
In our attempts at deciphering our history,
We turn to the relics of their poetry,
Discoveries that are a historian’s ultimate victory.
‘The love song of Shu-Sin’ –
The world’s oldest, known reference to love.
Written thousands of years ago,
Possibly older than we do know.
It is a rite of marriage, a recital;
In it lies a passage, one that needs a revival.
It is about a vow that we have now twisted,
An exquisite message that leaves one’s spirit lifted.
The bride promises the following to the groom;
To act as a refuge when all that seems to loom is doom and gloom.
To caress, love, and soothe.
To savour beauty and intimacy,
To be like honey, sweet and smooth.
The king - a man who was thought divine,
A man whose life was valued more than yours or mine,
A man who could eternally wine and dine –
That man was still no sultan to love.
His heart was still in the palms of his beloved,
Their naked frames intertwining, arched and cusped.
His hold on her is not one of force,
Nor a promise of power,
But rather earned in due course,
Like the development of a beautiful flower.
I grieve beyond words when I think
Of how love, nowadays, is on the brink.
The glue that holds life itself together,
Discarded by many, like an ex’s letter.
I look at the eyes of people I’d love to be with,
And in their expression, I discover a graveyard of sad memories.
Scars that feel indelible, past histories -
Souls that look like war-torn territories.
I look at my own eyes in the mirror,
And see a starving spirit, growing thinner.
I see a window for restoration, becoming slimmer.
Sometimes I hopefully wonder – is there a glimmer?
Is there another hungry apparition,
On a desperate search for heavenly admission?
I seem to have forgotten how to love,
And do not know how to rid myself of this condition.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 7:11 AM UTC
A Surfeit of Light
by Michael R. Burch
There was always a surfeit of light in your presence.
You stood distinctly apart, not of the humdrum world—
a chariot of gold in a procession of plywood.
We were all pioneers of the modern expedient race,
raising the ante: Home Depot to Lowe’s.
Yours was an antique grace—Thrace’s or Mesopotamia’s.
We were never quite sure of your silver allure,
of your trillium-and-platinum diadem,
of your utter lack of flatware-like utility.
You told us that night—your wound would not scar.
The black moment passed, then you were no more.
The darker the sky, how much brighter the Star!
The day of your funeral, I ripped out the crown mold.
You were this fool’s gold.
Keywords/Tags: surfeit, light, presence, chariot, Thrace, Mesopotamia, silver, gold, platinum, antique, grace, heirloom, diadem, crown, tiara
Alas, Sir Munchalot!
by Michael R. Burch
You ate too much,
your common lot;
you munched too much,
so now you’ve got
a gut.
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 5:49 AM UTC
Bleeding, missing platelets
Like a fountain, Exsanguination
Carcass, skin and bones left
Bury me, burn me, you better remember me.
Boy, get your paws right off me.
Growl, howl, gnaw, all you want.
Do not defile me. Leave, run for your life
Go face your reflection and scream, monster.
Snaked Nile, blue and white
carry the scratched Sarcophagus
to the end of the world.
Mummified monster.
Relic of the dark past
Monster of today
Destroyer of the bright future.
Don't let him escape, I pray to Horus.
Oh, the divine one-eyed one
heed my prayers.
Isis, guard him like Ra
Fear him like Apophis.
Otherwise, like ISIS
he will destroy your dreams, Mesopotamia.
Possessed by Set, blinded by red
Constrain him before he kills your Osiris.
Swamp, sudden snap. The jaws of Sobek
One monster to the rescue of the other.
Great Khnum, carry the golden coffin to the sea of chaos
destroyed by Isfet or swallowed by the black snake. Keine pflege.
Nephthys. Water, flood him
bury him deep within the death bed.
Vater, Moustached black man
Ich werde dich nicht vermissen.
Feb 1, 2020
Feb 1, 2020 at 7:59 AM UTC
Perseverance in adversity, grief and despair
Harshness the essence of life we lived then and now
Student of Jerusalem did you learn your lessons well?
When you walked in Syria, Libya and Mesopotamia
Never giving up on hope, dream and future vision
Faith in the Master urging you to higher thought
Turmoil ceased with spiritual conquests under raging sun
Forgotten Apostle, quietly moving ignorant mountains
Barbarian and savage gentled by your trust in One
Who would show them a far better place of repose
Brethren of the Sacred Heart, you healed the ***** king
Where once despondency lived as an ancient friend
Blessed martyr, in your father's footsteps, a murdered son
Life blood ebbing away onto crude, unenlightened hand
A woman lays weeping for her sin as her baby cries
Weak men surrender to the violence of stronger will
A purple eyed child trembles against a wall with fear
Bigots destroy those who seek God by another creed
Sons of plenty steal the harvests from the hungry
We implore you to hear us, pray for us and answer us
Invocation - will this be our only salvation?
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
Before social stratification (differences in wealth and power versus lack thereof) hunter/gatherers rarely fought. They were all equal and sensed it.
But when groups became big enough, they formed cities like Sumer in Mesopotamia, and concomitantly some people got wealthy and powerful while most did not.
Society, therefore, became, in time, stratified and in more time created superficial distinctions among the people of that city.
Obviously, my commentary is grossly oversimplified, but the point I'm going to make here is spot-on; namely, what has never changed among human beings is the locus of everyone's innate, inviolable worth, which is within each one of us, not without.
But the people of Sumer and other cities that followed were duped by the illusions of wealth and power as being worth, and that led to stratification of different groups based on false premises. And that led to making some groups slaves while the wealthy and powerful remained, they thought, superior.
This was the wrong turn in the fork in the road humanity took.
Humanity thus forgot we all have the same worth, and this inimical illusion only ballooned over millennia.
The right fork we need to find is the one the hunter/gatherers had taken and the whole world needs quickly to take that fork again before we all destroy Earth.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 3:10 AM UTC
Society Society Society Gladstone Here you mentioned it, she met the woman, sitting at the right hand of the robot & life being the Jinn and Bob in England, our light; Offer for itself, ignorantly unknown to the knowledge and customer service of the female bobbysocks who have computerized angels of the leaves and coming into the garden are their sacrifices, prophets, to eat, in the middle - on the development of companies to enter the Star of Park, the wife of Asia, has focused on being the best revolution and Christian children near Bettie to take in the world's dining center at the heart Dumuzid [and] ancient materials to make vegetables for the first human herders Manuel, Manuel (later Ishtar). Old English, Sumerian, Dumuzid Geshtinanna and woman and goddess of the earth. The size of each of the footsteps of the Sumirian kings listed in the city of Dunezid, which was futile, and early in the morning by walking on the representative of the Prosecutor, Manuel Sumerian like Handmade Dumuzid with his hand, Manuel pees. This manual of Hell Hell blinded Doozid's death while undermining the brain, which allowed the demons to slip into small levels.
Ishtar Tammuz Canterbury Canterbury Epic 6 from the past image in the bird from the bottom of all is thrown into action. In the eyes exposed to grass in the last summer summer Dumuzid Dumuzid died, in one year. During the summer and the middle name of all the people in our state in Iraq, the noise of grief. Last year, experts have thought that you have the right to use the Summitian Old Age holiday or fall into the practice of saving a boy when Dumuzid Manuel wants to be part of the wedding.
Has a course of education given the Sumerian opportunity to be given.
And the songs for Greece Dumuzid turned to East, the West Semitic name.
And the land was, and in many parts of Mesopotamia, to the end of the nine hundred and twenty years. Many worshipers worshiped the gods Tammuz, Ezekiel, from the Hebrew Bible, and whether he moved to another position. is at the point of death. This is "death to the East, obviously that the scholars and cities ... Glorious ******* was done because of the failure of the First Way of Direction, starting from the house, which has a white throne at the bottom of the intestinal luster and his eyebrows see an example of an example that would be a pair of towels on the opposite side to pursue those who fought, showing that both of them were Wolff's writers, women, gods, by example, as it has always been a new way to increase the rights of children on the Lord's shadow, on the right hand of one who sees the image of a part of the air.
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 7:48 PM UTC
Lives have been lived by millions of people that have been forgotten or worse never known. People that walked our world, looked at the same sun, the same moon that we see today. Lived lives, had families, lost loved ones, held jobs. Their existence forever lost to the sands of time. Blown away in the dust of the winds as if they were never here. Thousands of years ago all over the world little boys and little girls ran and played laughing, their sounds forever lost to the hills and vales of their existence.
From the Yucatan in Mexico to the Fertile Crescent of Mesopotamia, ancient peoples were born, lived and died. We, oblivious of them personally. Yet, we are still connected to them by our hopes our fears, by our love and our humanity. Think of them, about them from time to time, and in a way, bring them back to the land of the living, at least for for awhile.
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 7:14 AM UTC
Today, Geneva is sharing air.
But it is deeper in the sea.
Month of the month orange.
Napa moved towards the water.
And Yang says: "Now you are connected,
I go, I love you, My future is coming,
some people want." The real person
who wants to secure his work.
Christina Tzirica, white white land.
And Didis tells about weight loss.
Arabs and billions of billions of yuta.
The stories of Sinbad and the eastern
tip of Iran. Over time jigagotiya copper
and pillow, Iran, This is against
the source code. Thousands of works
are third. Read the entire organization.
Urter matrix and cellular structure.
The difference between the calendar
and the type of landscape is,
It comes out, it is not clear on the white sheets.
Uganda is like an old sugar jar.
The White Church represents the region.
Power is always provided to partners.
The money you paid for your trip.
To complete Mesopotamia from the
pyramid, The animals and the earth
are connected to the earth. This is Girpat
and Bell. Simple research among
the monks. Earth and sky and earth.
There are too many windows
To become bigger and bigger.
Eliacake of the ancient city of Macedonia.
Unfortunately, at work, more than 90
[9 minutes]. High but archaeological
finds. They relate to different colors,
Beautiful temples are being replaced.
Who is registered? The next color
reaches until it reaches another.
List The pages you created
The document has been used.
Yard (flank) on the pages
of your name. Maximum height
in zigzag. Taituki, name immediately,
Part time and "cover" translation.
It works first with the initial
accumulation. In the 4th century AD
In the 13th century. It is true that
in a thousand years. And locally. Old
Germans will be built Sudanese Indians
Nurses and naked women are women
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 3:00 AM UTC
Babylons eroded
Mesopotamia flooded.
Egypt dried
And America polluted.
Murderers and heroes.
Gods are liars
Man tell the best stories
Women dream reality
UFOs are from Earth
Life is Hell.
You are becoming the last person alive to have a pulse and not a cellphone charger.
You are the last voice I heard ever and the one I only needed.
Time are pieces of papers before fire.
And I use matches to unlock doors and free myself of guilt.
I cannot control floods or the turning of the earth.
I can only speak for fires sake.
I can only speak for tomorrow, if I gain a spark for today.
We can burn it all down
And kick the sand in the deserts around the Nile.
Or banish Gods
And scorn men.
And let women dream.
You can live in Babylon or live back between the Tigris and Euphrates.
Or drink from America's murk.
But we are looking at these keys blazing.
And never looking back, dropping them in doorways.
To ash our cigarettes in the rubble of yesterdays pain.
Together.
Nov 5, 2019
Nov 5, 2019 at 9:57 AM UTC
stretching on the carpet
alone
listening to a video
about ancient Mesopotamia
an approximation of a yoga routine
and I go to take a ****
thinking about Hammurabi
"the law was made between two rivers"
i think, and sigh
letting my stream go
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 2:49 AM UTC