.'. Child of the Revolution .'.
“Those that have fought and died that we may live…keep them in eternal remembrance…”
Alone I crouch, my face to the broken soil
Blind to the starbursts shooting across skylines
To the scenes of devastation before my weary eyes
To my comrade – a body beaten, mutilated by the hands of
A fellow human, racking, hacking – rotting away like a wasted piece of flesh
To humanity
I beg your mercy
Judge me not for these hands drenched with blood
I am no more the person
The child who sat on a tin roof one morning, marveling at the way
He could catch the sun with his tiny hand
The boy who stole out at night to embrace that lovely Irish lass
Under the willow by the barn
The man who left her holding his son with a broken promise of return
513270 JK
Five foot nine deadly machine
Forty-seven counts of murder to my name
This fluid that courses through my tattered veins, frozen nerves
Is the gall
Developed of hatred between two people
Convered with frills and laces to seem a just cause
For which I have to stand, to fight
And die.
This chessboard has been set too many times over
Every pawn I crush an indication of my own impending fate
Reflections in which I saw myself
A countryman, wanting to do his country proud
To be able to hold his head high and fly his nation’s with majesty
Yet now
I am the child once again
Wishing my mother’s flowered skirt would shield me from the ugliness of the world
And my father would put my up on his shoulders
That I would look down on all who went my way
“You, boy!”
“Yes sir!”
“Recite the pledge!”
“Death before dishonour, sir!”
My compass of lost direction points me to everywhere but home
I face tsunami after tsunami
Asphyxiation from the noxious miasma of death, destruction, decay
Shadows fuse days with nights; I can’t remember the sight of
An eagle soaring into a piece of sky
As I lie motionless in surrender
Four R-39 bullets in my back and one at the back of my head
Defenseless against Death’s sweet serenade
Intoxicated by dulcet kisses of Pasithea on my blistered, ulcerous lips
Comforting, enticing as mother’s lullaby on a night such as this
Strangled in an inescapable vortex of nightmares spun by threads of hate
There lie 6E7157 and 2914B, the same lads I went fishing with down at virgin streams
Now shells emptied of emotion, of soul since those barefoot days
Perhaps I don’t have a right or reason for
Hoping to God we’d both find a place in His kingdom come
High up in the zenith
The light of a star softly fades
With the buried dreams of my fossil heart
From ashes to ashes, from dust to dust
…
VICTORY FOR AMERICA!
LAND OF THE FREE EMERGES VICTOR!
WAR OVER – HITLER SURRENDERS!
HITLER DEFEATED, PEACE RESTORED
HONOUR TO AMERICA!
ROOSEVELT ANNOUNCES VICTORY!
GERMANY IN SHAME
…
Dulcis et alta quies plaridaeque similima morti
In your glory of
Sun shining down on the
Blue
Red
And white.
Amen.
__________________________________________________________
Pasithea: Greek Goddess of Hallucination
Dulcis et alta quies plaridaeque similima morti:
Sleep sweet and deep, most like to quiet death
Alone I crouch, my face to the broken soil
Blind to the starbursts shooting across skylines
To the scenes of devastation before my weary eyes
To my comrade – a body beaten, mutilated by the hands of
A fellow human, racking, hacking – rotting away like a wasted piece of flesh
To humanity
I beg your mercy
Judge me not for these hands drenched with blood
I am no more the person
The child who sat on a tin roof one morning, marveling at the way
He could catch the sun with his tiny hand
The boy who stole out at night to embrace that lovely Irish lass
Under the willow by the barn
The man who left her holding his son with a broken promise of return
513270 JK
Five foot nine deadly machine
Forty-seven counts of murder to my name
This fluid that courses through my tattered veins, frozen nerves
Is the gall
Developed of hatred between two people
Convered with frills and laces to seem a just cause
For which I have to stand, to fight
And die.
This chessboard has been set too many times over
Every pawn I crush an indication of my own impending fate
Reflections in which I saw myself
A countryman, wanting to do his country proud
To be able to hold his head high and fly his nation’s with majesty
Yet now
I am the child once again
Wishing my mother’s flowered skirt would shield me from the ugliness of the world
And my father would put my up on his shoulders
That I would look down on all who went my way
“You, boy!”
“Yes sir!”
“Recite the pledge!”
“Death before dishonour, sir!”
My compass of lost direction points me to everywhere but home
I face tsunami after tsunami
Asphyxiation from the noxious miasma of death, destruction, decay
Shadows fuse days with nights; I can’t remember the sight of
An eagle soaring into a piece of sky
As I lie motionless in surrender
Four R-39 bullets in my back and one at the back of my head
Defenseless against Death’s sweet serenade
Intoxicated by dulcet kisses of Pasithea on my blistered, ulcerous lips
Comforting, enticing as mother’s lullaby on a night such as this
Strangled in an inescapable vortex of nightmares spun by threads of hate
There lie 6E7157 and 2914B, the same lads I went fishing with down at virgin streams
Now shells emptied of emotion, of soul since those barefoot days
Perhaps I don’t have a right or reason for
Hoping to God we’d both find a place in His kingdom come
High up in the zenith
The light of a star softly fades
With the buried dreams of my fossil heart
From ashes to ashes, from dust to dust
…
VICTORY FOR AMERICA!
LAND OF THE FREE EMERGES VICTOR!
WAR OVER – HITLER SURRENDERS!
HITLER DEFEATED, PEACE RESTORED
HONOUR TO AMERICA!
ROOSEVELT ANNOUNCES VICTORY!
GERMANY IN SHAME
…
Dulcis et alta quies plaridaeque similima morti
In your glory of
Sun shining down on the
Blue
Red
And white.
Amen.
__________________________________________________________
Pasithea: Greek Goddess of Hallucination
Dulcis et alta quies plaridaeque similima morti:
Sleep sweet and deep, most like to quiet death
