Thursday, September 19, 2019

Who Does It Serve?

the act of taking a life
in all societies the most circumscribed
there are reasons, are there not?
but no, perhaps not
all arguments for taking life come down
to narcissism
the I Am

but what of war
other-directed killing
a field of screaming giants running towards
someone whose biology screams back
I Must Live!
killing the Other ordered from Above
justification is necessary
to disobey the Prime Directive
Preserve Life at All Costs

hatred must be generated in war
to overcome that deeply ingrained anathema
they say it’s human nature
the need to kill aside from preservation
of one’s own
it’s necessary to create an Other
not Us
they are not human the same way we are human
and Our humanity has been ordained by the Almighty
to be superior
the only seed to be planted
the harvesting supposed to cull the worst
serve up the best
a harvest in war
a harvest in ceremonial sacrifice

so Bombs are dropped
knives swords bayonets bullets
pierce the softer necessary parts of bodies

if killing is necessary
and blind rage and fear rule the battlefield
the Weapons of War are no more
than killing machines
not meant to be survived
it isn’t meant
that the receiver of those death blasts
should be taken to hospital
nurtured and healed
it isn’t meant
to Gently shoot
to dissuade
to change the heart or mind
of the Other

it’s meant Berserker
it’s meant wholesale slaughter
it’s meant Bomb Em Back to the Stone Age
it’s meant to leave a pile of rotting corpses
it’s meant, the message to All Others
We are the Champions
We are the Winners
Our Story is told and the Other’s is buried
along with the bodies
Weapons of War are constructed to Kill
and to Kill
and to Kill
they are constructed to rain stinking death
on populations inhuman slash Evil

there must be no argument, Traitor!
you are condemned to the putrid heap
like all of the Others

bullets for war are designed to explode inside bodies
spew sharp bladed particles
slicing dicing shredding liquifying
before exiting through openings the size of large fists
scrambling the innards like eggs
whoever thought of putting Humpty Dumpty
together again?

These are the weapons roaming halls
filled with children
laughing and fooling and teasing
the way children do
before falling to ground
flowers of evil sprouting ruby red
from their perfect young bodies
their twisted remains never moving
randomly patterned
burned on the retinas of those left to hide
screaming and crying
not succeeding
         to be silent
mind’s eyes forever filled
with stark nightmares
visions of battlefield carnage
displacing the math test the school play
the prom

they say it’s human nature
but who is the Enemy on this bright morning
when innocents fall
never to see another day

Who is the Champion?
                Who are the Winners?
                                Who does this serve?