Posts Tagged ‘good or evil’

Daji was an evil woman,
Once a simple concubine,
With a beauty that erred on the line,
Between angelic and infernal,
Obsidian hair,
And femme fatale eyes,
Lips of jincan,
With a hidden craving for spawning torment,

Lover of a king,
Corruptor of a king,
A nation cracked,
As the state fell beneath one woman,
A barefoot farmer screamed,
His feet removed in morbid curiosity,
Peasants lamented,
When the paolao was ignited,

She and her king were overthrown,
By a people exhausted by torture,
Even their armies turned against the cruelty,
Execution was the minimum sentence,
Put to death by a new era,
By beheading or by pyre,
I am not entirely clear,
But evil cannot truly perish,

Now something altogether more ethereal,
A vulpine spirit,
Both in appearance,
And in temperament,
A nine-tailed fox,
The shrines were burned,
Erected by demented fox spirit cults,
But still her malice permeates,

Even to this day.

I’m a ghost,
But not of an afterlife,
I’m not dead,
Just not entirely here,
A hollow spirit,
I gave myself out too much,
Charity for too many hearts,
There was no blood left for me,

Each call for help,
Became a funeral invitation for me,
Burying more of myself,
I lost my form,
I wasn’t enough,
No more flesh,
Wasn’t enough to give,
It hollowed me out,

So now I float about an old house,
I wail in the twilight,
Gasping stridor in the black,
But I’m not here to startle,
Just to wallow in my own eulogy,
Ectoplasmic gibberish,
Among guttering candles,
And black cats,

Not enough,

This keyboard,
This plastic muse,
An instrument of your will,
Like the typewriters of old,
With these keys,
Q and A and N,
You can fire off a qwerty salvo,
For ire or peace,
Be you philosopher or troll?

This keyboard,
It’s a portal to the world,
A bridge for communication,
Or a facade for animosity,
Your hands become megaphones,
For complaints and poetry and belle-lettres,
The keys enable your artifice,
For ill or morality,
Be you dictator or philanthropist?

When my mind wanders,
Satchel in hand,
Along that silk road,
Passed borders and ideologies,
To those far eastern lands,
I cry tears of cracked sapphire,

My pleas may be silent,
But they are well-meaning,
Please reconsider,
Why not be a peoples republic,
For the actual people?
A land of plenty,

Such an elaborate and beautiful culture,
A land of swirling dragons,
A survivor of eras,
You should share your ways,
But not through a lense of conquest,
Join the party,

Is building a world,
With smog and meat wagons,
Wet markets and pointed heels,
With tear gas,
And censorship,
The only way for you?

Do you hate us so much?
Is control that important?
Are the parades of pride or of intimidation?
That great wall of yours,
Is it emotional as well physical?
Is it a bulwark against humanuity?

You’ve survived tyranny,
The burning rays of a rising sun,
And the hordes of mongolic composite bows,
You can be better,
A guardian spirit,
A watchful red dragon,

Please reconsider,
You can be better.

There was an eclipse last night,
The atmosphere grew heavy,
I scanned it with bloodshot eyes,
And I grew fearful,
To witness such beauty being obscured,
By a shadow of such an evil thing,

Witching hour…

As the lunar goddess was enshrouded,
The voices began their furor,
Rageful claws bore down,
Driven insane by the night air,
Be they spectre or succubi?
I was not privy,

New dawn…

I awaken sore and beaten,
Crimson scratches down my back,
A bruise or four,
I leave the abode into daylight,
The sun has taken the sky,
And I grow fearful.

You would think that flags were holy,
Sacred relics,
How they are so worshipped,
Visible at all the rallies,
Leading all the armies,
Do people not realise,
They are simple crass fabric?

Flags are living things they say,
Flying around on the wind,
They squawk things like,
“You win!”,
“Here be friends!”,
“Leave me be!”,
“Here be dragons!”,

All manner of divine symbols,
Pennants of myriad beliefs,
Flags of nations past and present,
Ensigns of every shade,
Some are benign,
Others are oppressive gods,
Worshipped by churlish bigots,

Flags perform for all who gaze,
People elate at their wistful dances,
They are both cherubs and incubi,
Performing in every hurricane,
But alas,
I tell lies of course,
They are simply soulless fabric.

The internet,
A wondrous thing,
Mankinds ultimate achievement,
Turned to all manner of both evil and benevolence,
Is it an information matrix?
Or is it information supervision?

Trust not those who control speech,
Dark forces,
Shrill tweets of birds of prey,
Updates on a thousand-faced tome,
Pornographic cyanide to be injected,
Assembling an army of automatons,

Are social media giants corporate necromancers?
Because they practice mastery over dead minds,
We crane our necks to gaze at the screens,
Even the most astute of us,
Like zombies,
But we only rot within,

Those radio towers,
Icons of duplicity,
The old adage declares,
Knowledge is power,
But is this knowledge impartial and sincere?
Do you spread discourse or discord?

From these shores,
To many others,
Flag after flag,
Of all stripes,
Strawmen are erected,

Fallacies are spawned,
Ideas are distorted,
And eviscerated,
To sate a tribal idealism,
Debates become bloodbaths,
Scholars lose themselves,
And become cut-throats,
With fallacious dirks,

Being right is the only victory,
Even as sense must be sacrificed,
Herbal teas spilled,
The diplomatic table is in flames,
Chessboards and statistics,
Logic has become smoke,
The strawman still stands.

One must hunt,
Kill to live,

On all fours,
Baying for blood and gore,
All saliva and pheromones,

I must kill,
To feed on fur and tissue,
To sate the maw within,
The forest fires take over,
A hellish descent,

Through the grim mist,
I catch that scent,
A bouquet of optimism and sun,
Of autumn and seasoned venison,
A life to be cut short,

I see crimson,

The doe falls easily,
Hamstrung and gutted,
Formally so full of bounce and life,
Her eyes become as the void,
A rattling mirror of dark,

The bloody form contorts,
A doe no longer,
Prey no more,
But a murder,
My humanity torn.

The mouthpieces call,
Will we be spared this carnage?
The end times surely,
Pandemic panic,
Masks are amassed,

The fools plead,
Who is to fall next?
We’ll all gasp our last,
Deflective delirium,
The dead are used,

Hazmats pour in,
As reason spills out,
Our sense drained like a sore,

We should ask ourselves,
What is cloaked by this plague?
What is hidden by our hysteria?

A corona can blind.