BALLAD IN PLAIN D from James Goertel for your Friday Poetry feature pleasure.
does not bother me.I do not mourn the fate they have met,
walked willingly into without remorse….
We are born with oblivion on our breath,
with raven’s blood in our fetal, mortal veins
Mixing with our own as we crawl
from the sanguine mud through adolescence
To the blunt force trauma of adulthood
and on through wars spawned from nothing more
Than panting hatred bred from beaten dogs
we willingly lie down with,
Courting canine instincts of
obedience, loyalty, and blind faith
To masters fashioned from a vow
of prejudice, from a marriage of lust and pride.
The death of men
I do not lament.
Men, me among them, too proud to beg for mercy,
to offer forgiveness in the face of odds too great to defy
Which lie men down in shallow graves,
leaving behind mothers, sisters, daughters, wives
And lovers to weep and walk on
without us as they always have.