Puppets Of Truth

Puppets Of Truth
© Surazeus
2017 08 31

I never thought that I would see the day
when our president is a Russian puppet
and Germany condemns us for our Nazis.

When the hidden dragon through storm of war
rises from the crowd to become the king
who embodies the virtues of the age,
and leads his nation from the bleak abyss
through the waste land of horror and despair
to build the citadel of heaven strong
around the bubbling pool of paradise,
he freezes into the statue of stone
after his body and mind crumble to dust.

When the Soviet Union broke apart
the tall steel statues of Lenin and Stalin
were torn down from their lofty pedestals
and melted down as parts for motor cars,
then, when the knights of the cross stormed Iraq
and hung the dictator they put in power,
statues of Sadam Hussein were dragged down
and farmers stomped on his head with their shoes.

Now the statues of Christopher Columbus
and Robert E. Lee, long standing supreme
over our fertile land of liberty,
are being torn down in the United States
for the empire where we lived eighty years
vanishes in the wind of turning time,
and we gather by the river at dawn
to construct a new and better Zarathi
where everyone is equal under law.

What noble people who performed great deeds
out of billions who once lived on this world
shall we present on pedestal of truth
as gods who embody our noblest virtues,
or shall we let those pedestals stand empty
to represent our disdain for all kings,
except for feet of Ozymandias,
to show we now respect the game of Death
who hurls down every king from throne to grave?

We slaughter each other in bloody wars
over who will drink from river of life,
then our children intermarry and breed
new generations who prefer to build
and sing together in temple of peace,
then erect statues of us where we stand
staring mute and blind at progress of man
as he transforms technology of wit
from wagon to car to rocket of stars,
and all our children sing hymns to our names.

God appears before my eyes in white light,
tall bearded man with face and beaming eyes
of my father, and reaches out his hand
to place scepter of wisdom in my hand,
so I mold scepter into a sharp sword
and chop off the heads of arrogant kings,
then I mold the sword into a long tube
that fires bullets molded as silver spheres
and shoot the heads of slave-traders and thieves,
then I mold the gun into a small camera
to film the history of prophets and kings
in epic of power since God ruled the world
in mortal flesh ten thousand years ago.

While standing on the mountain in gray mist,
gazing east to discover the lost path
my ancestors journeyed ten thousand years
since we all first spread from high pyramid
where First Mother gave everyone new name,
I realize with a soul-shivering laugh
that I am God because I dream the stars
evolving from sea of transcendent light
which congregates in warm body of flesh.

We are all singing fragments of the sun
who wake from dream of the swirling sea,
and chant harmonic vibration of hope
as we make love to generate new life,
though first we defeat the puppet of lies
and dance in circles around the cool spring,
for we are the stringless puppets of truth.