Poetry

February 16, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Gage Skidmore photo

 

By

Ben White

 

 

 

Hubris

 

 

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

 

Self-promoted

And gilded in the conceit

It takes to defeat logic

And rational behaviors

With a personality

Convinced

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

 

Sardis-a-Lago

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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