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Joshua Brown
I almost dreamed about a different estate, built on some other language and time.
Shifted alongside that current towards a more culturally appropriate investment
Where men and women besought some form of dreamlike superiority o'er space
But cast aside their moral integrity by fashioning the cudgel that would return ill
And why else would I imagine that this identity as some sort of wedge against man
Would thus keep men away as though this format of disingenuity and disallowance
Would do else but form a golem in my own heart to do the bidding of violent minds
And strike at the foot of humanity and drive away some gift that other might love
Firm mastication of that offering brought to the altar of reality recognized as real
That prayer, not to the gods, but to the titans as if they could hear our own screech
A spell cast over the wooden altar around which we worship that sustenance gifted
By our own domination as a species against the walls, against the seas, to thrash
And sought out among the beasts, those most useful to that end of ritualistic meal,
Instead of magic, some boring veneer to that human instinct to become and be
A master pass of genetic drift and gifted death, that opportunity to die, extinctant.
All these stupid thoughts once held by smart children wash again to lollard mind
But what can be done, determined and imagined here by this magic contemplate?
Can we demand of ourselves some greater morality and deeper meaning to be?
Can we protect and grow that potential to fulfill and adapt to unseen Titanics?
What children can come to bear and demons can be exorcised by lighting minds?
If I were only one among the tribes and my hands were bloody still by betrayal
Why would I give in to murderous impulse against that child desperate to live
Whose seat at the dinner altar is but one and disoccupied by consternative faces
Whose bread, rotting core, would be exposed as maggot filled by innocent eyes
And why else were they all silent, these about who celebrated Zeus and Prom,
These heroes who overcame their forefathers and cast them into dark slavery?
This momentous day was combined with joy and fervor but why without me
Was it justified to become a Titan on the day that gods rejoiced to overcome?
But what mantle did they pick up and don as they crossed over swollen river
Was it that mantle of the prophet that they murdered in cold blood evil
And walked across the river clean by that washing of survival of the fittest
And communication unspoken by those who also hated and desired power?
Oh Elisha, that and they who killed the children by casting spells upon bears!
And great was the mystery of worship that enshrined this vile act forever
Into some mysterious book that praised and adored them for charismaness
All hail the Titans, all hail the Titans, brought to Heaven by the anarchists.
For once that moment drew to close where Greek mythos hailed Titanic
Submission to the gods of morality, then the gods themselves corrupted
And became nought else but the very demonic animals that they consumed
Upon that dinner altar of celebratory enslavement of the Hadeic patriarchs.
#poem #poetry #history #power #violence #domination #dominion #naturalism #religion
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📅 Written October 8, 2023
📍 Written in Aurora, Colorado at his home along Sand Creek, east of Mount Evans
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Thanks for reading. Cultures and mythos have long tried to capture the essence of the cyclical essence of power. "Those who are tempted to the ring find themselves destroyed by it." And "Live by the sword, die by it." But accepting the amoral nature of its inevitability and reverencing it as a mode of creative destruction is part of this poem's purpose.
Normalizing and trivializing power over others and nature is part of genetic's greatest strengths. One of the safest paths forward is recognizing how this works, at a broader societal level, but more importantly, among parents and children, both external and internal.
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