Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Seed Of His Eyes

Seed Of His Eyes
© Surazeus
2017 02 14

I am not dead yet so I have to write
poetry with ink of blood from my eyes
that paints memories on scroll of the sky
how every ancestor ten thousand years
hunted and roasted animals to eat
then copulated under raining stars
to generate children springing from dirt
who spread across the land in roving gangs
then organized their hands to bake hard bricks
and build high pyramid where he can sit
to reign as fire god while worshipping priests
capture travelers and roast them on flames
to feast on hearts and brains while singers dance
and chant the glory of his victories
till lithe young warrior escapes from chains
and twirls gold scepter forged from falling star
to battle guards and crack their fragile skulls
then leaps up pyramid stairs with loud howl
to plunge sharp spear into the heart of god
then drags him out before huge screaming crowd
to smash his divine skull and snatch his crown
then proclaims himself god who rules the world
so he impregnates one thousand young girls
and crowns five hundred sons as noble kings
on pyramids from sea to shining sea
and thus his fierce lust glows in all our hearts
to multiply and colonize the world
for we all spring from the seed of his eyes.

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