Earthicide

Save me! There’s muck all over.
I’ll turn over when I depart.
And you. Spoon feed poison and wait. Filth that suffocates.
I am watching. Economic turnover.
Restless restless. There was no treasure. Hyper active assassin. Look again.
Hit me when I can’t resist. Mighty they desist.
Who are you?
Divert it and destroy it. Hidden notions. What are you?
Feisty came. Destroy! Wait. Come back to daddy.
Soft edges. Sleek cuts. Take these keys.
Fifty arcs will not suffice. Run amuck.
The wounds are deep. Pain is pleasure. Nooses sneaking up from behind.
Healed is the world. Deprived.
I need a battalion. Earthicide cannot be banned.
You conjure it from my bosom when I sleep. Cursed dung.
Kill to succeed. Unquenchable thirst.
Take it in good measure. Inner peace.
Peace. Then, when I take the leap of my life,
Eathicide, you will be vanquished.
Outdone. Shit.

Martha

Sit beside me and let me
stroke your flecked fleece.
Sit beside me, sweetie,
and see through me
the world you no longer see.

See the mountains’ snowy peaks,
the saintly trees, the silvery streams,
and the valleys you no longer visit.
Sit still beside me and recite
the astounding stories to me.

Tales of splendour, of countless wings,
of broken honour and countless woes.
Cloud of billions, but one that sings,
traversing the new land up to the shores.

Sunless days for weeks sans a hint
made armies of men look barren.
See them squint at the brilliant tint
and wonder at the prodigious pigeon.

Perhaps it was their awesome strength
that evoked the libertarian wrath.
Perhaps it was simply the winds of change
which, not knowing why, blew the wrong way.

But death is truly a cruel thing
when the wing that flew lies now singed.
Yet in death there may be relief
when you are the last one condemned to live.

Like a fair lady drenched in ease,
so rightly do you bring us to our knees.
O Martha! Forgive us, please.
Sit in silence now. Be at peace.

workers of the world

Pronounce warrior!
Are you born of steel?

The king has no power.
The knight no rider.
The seal has no order.
The slave no loser.
Pronounce warrior!
Are you born of steel?

No law stronger.
No nation’s greater.
No citizens’ charter.
No oath harder.
Pronounce warrior!
Are you born of steel?

My kind’s the brightest.
My work’s the finest.
My vision’s the farthest.
My word’s the loudest.
And I pronounce best.
This, at my own behest –
I am not born of steel.
I am born of my own right.

For none shall question
the Insects’ might.
No pig dare fashion
the consecrated night.
No, there’s no man in sight.
Workers of the world, unite!