The Inside Assyria Discussion Forum #5

=> Boots of Babylon

Boots of Babylon
Posted by Marcello (Guest) georgiomalik@yahoo.com - Tuesday, April 26 2011, 15:50:03 (UTC)
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(this is not a pro-Assyrian thing... it's about the illegal war of aggression on Iraq and it's people.... this is not a poem... I'm no Ezra Pound and this is not my Cantos)

Boots of Babylon by Abdul-Marcel Abu-Malik (my pen name to piss off Assyrians)

...And even Jesus
has bartered his sandals
for boots
from Babylon.

While the axe,
the sacred tree
and the Burning Bush
also wage
a chorus of thunder,
a choir of fire.

As precise-blind murder
disperse civilians and children,
while the shattered sun
of Shamash darkens,
and the light of life
lies down to die,
upon the Hanging Gardens
of infanticide and hunger,
of disease and dispair,
of existential HeLL.

And the lies
and sweet spells
of killers and liberators
sting the eyes
with a wild smell
as the mind can only see
black-oil-blood spill,
within the fallen
Gates of Ishtar,
outside the hunted
heart of Ninevah,
who violently wails
to her distant sons and daughters
about the aggressive-naked slaughter
of their innocent
sisters and brothers,
who from their cold
adopted homeland,
watch the rape and plunder
of their Motherland,
from the Continent of the New World:
(That was ravaged
by followers
of an Italian sailor
for the piracy pilgrimage
of monarchical claws,
dripping with holy water,
to cleanse and wash away
the poison and thievery
that destroyed and displaced
the naive natives
into fenced mountains,
into missionary prairies,
into Christian aquiescence,
into death, darkness and acceptance.)

Which now visits upon
a land thousands of year old,
whose nights languish in hope
of elopement with freedom's daughters.
-- but the virgins of emancipation
hide like maidens
in meek aniticipation,
as faces of the dying
leave faint traces
within craters
dug heel-deep
by the marching feet
of bombs,
blasting infants
like birthday balloons,
burning their faceless cradles
into radio-active dust,
evoking tomented trust
within motherless
embraces
of death.

...And the hidden dungeons
of modern tyrants and pirates
lie amid
the fertile land
between rivers
Euphrates and Tigris:
where
Assyrian citaldels,
Babylonian Ziggurats
and Arabian mosques
are laid to waste
by order from
impotent men in power,
who from plutonium towers
of Babel,
haggle...

--But lives lost
are the sole cost
of war,
(although business is busy
pandering for a profit,
with the Prophets of the Word,
Kneeling on the payroll:
to pay tribute to and pray for
the poor and dying,
yearning and crying
in the smoldering smoke
wafting throught TV screens
that never mention the screaming
of young girls
thirsty and running,
and little boys frightened,
looking for lost mother,
who drowned in rivers
of tar and blood
that drain in the mouth
of the broken bull,
who once protected
the Gates of Mesopotamia,
through which now
contractors and Generals
wade and march
to the funeral
of the Roots of Civilization,
buried below
the bunkers of Baghdad,
beneath the pounding
Boots of Babylon.



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