February 16, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Gage Skidmore photo



Ben White







Hubris I


We are the new Persians

Being ruled

By the residual perversions

Of Xerxes revived


In the need to be worshipped

And praised

In ways

That please


And gratify

The power of greed

So constant


In the drive

To be recognized

As great

With stability

And intelligence



And gilded in the conceit

It takes to defeat logic

And rational behaviors

With a personality


It is a savior’s duty

To isolate the people


Trapped inside

Their borders

And keep them suspended

In faith and prayer

Unable to think


Or dare

To voice

The criticisms

Or accusations


Now banned

Across the white-washed land

Where penalties

And punishments await

In the hands of assassins


Ready to kill

The members of the free press

Then profess their loyalty

To the royalty

Of nationalist ideas


That pretend

What is being fabricated

Is a matter of fate

And anticipated


In the mind

Of a God

In Heaven


Manifested now on earth

By valuing the worth

Of inherited affluence


Dictating hearts

To mind

Emotional response.



Hubris II


Praise be unto Xerxes

For he has the car keys

And the parade

Is waiting on the fading boulevard

Of hard choices

Where the voices of the crowd

Have gathered aloud to rejoice

In the coming of the God float


So the popular vote

Can be discounted

By administrative angels

Caught by their wings in mouse traps

And distribution schemes

Running laps around the victory dreams


For the sake of exorcism

And paralysis cycling through

Continuous loops

Of analysis to determine

A skin glow to match

The xenophobic paradox

Of lonely people who hate people


And keep memories

In a box of photographs

Where the laughs

Of lasting ridicule eat away

The meaning of the episodes

Depicted in the worshipping sentiments

Afflicted with terror and visions


That can’t be peeled away

From their eyes



Hubris III



Is beautiful in the winter

Where comfort takes over

The thoughts of battles


Left to be fought

By others not invited

To the golf courses that don’t offer

Mardonius any control


Or refuge

As the sea bronzes exuberant lies

Being told to distract reports

Away from the decline of operations


While funding

Is authorized to keep

Babylon controlled and entertained

By self-enjoyment living


On the nourishment

Of strength and vitality

Until the depletion passes

As privilege and the sons of history


Consider salvation

As a means to move uptown

Even though the Royal Road

Can’t handle the cost of infrastructure.






Ben White

Author of the books, Buddha Bastinado Blues and The Kill Gene, Ben White thought he was a poet, only to find out he is not a poet at all. He is a witness. What he writes is testimony.

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