“If you were buried with him in the likeness of his death, surely you will be with him in the likeness of his resurrection.” Romans 6:5
Blood Legacy
They found a man reviled for his effeminate kindness,
and they beat him,
spraying his cowards blood so that it became a viscous rain,
smearing it sadistically upon their smiling faces,
painting themselves war heroes with his inferior blood.
One said, “Should we laugh?”
Another answered “Should we not take pleasure in justice?”
The weaker he became at the ferocious flurry of pummeling fists,
the more intoxicated with power they became.
A synergy of sadistic hedonism moved them,
so that their voices became a crazed, incoherent symphony
of hatred.
Shrieks of pain
and waves of laughter
rose to cacophonous crescendo
until the broken man gave up his impotent soul.
Stillness settled over the scene, for even a just killing
can create a mood of contemplative dissatisfaction.
As they shuffled back to their homes, heads hung low,
the dead man called to them in love,
having risen from the dead.
Incensed that he was still alive,
and that he would dare address them again
with patronizing compassion,
they destroyed him again,
confirming their strength.
And again he rose and called to them in love.
Their anger grew into irrational, spitting vituperations
of malice until they killed him again,
this time hacking him to pieces with swords.
And again he rose and called to them in love.
But they kept killing him, because that is all they knew,
and that is all they knew to teach to their children.
Every generation killed him,
and with increasingly evolved methods.
They made it their destiny as descendents to destroy him
once and for all.
Killing him became their legacy.
But each time he rose and called to them in love,
only to be destroyed again,
and again and again.
One bright day after generations of this rabid bloodthirstiness;
after a river of this
one man’s blood had flowed,
a child of this murderous brood
in trembling empathy embraced him,
only to be destroyed with him.
But he raised them together
and proclaimed…
“Enough of my blood has flowed.”
November, 2007
Blood Legacy
They found a man reviled for his effeminate kindness,
and they beat him,
spraying his cowards blood so that it became a viscous rain,
smearing it sadistically upon their smiling faces,
painting themselves war heroes with his inferior blood.
One said, “Should we laugh?”
Another answered “Should we not take pleasure in justice?”
The weaker he became at the ferocious flurry of pummeling fists,
the more intoxicated with power they became.
A synergy of sadistic hedonism moved them,
so that their voices became a crazed, incoherent symphony
of hatred.
Shrieks of pain
and waves of laughter
rose to cacophonous crescendo
until the broken man gave up his impotent soul.
Stillness settled over the scene, for even a just killing
can create a mood of contemplative dissatisfaction.
As they shuffled back to their homes, heads hung low,
the dead man called to them in love,
having risen from the dead.
Incensed that he was still alive,
and that he would dare address them again
with patronizing compassion,
they destroyed him again,
confirming their strength.
And again he rose and called to them in love.
Their anger grew into irrational, spitting vituperations
of malice until they killed him again,
this time hacking him to pieces with swords.
And again he rose and called to them in love.
But they kept killing him, because that is all they knew,
and that is all they knew to teach to their children.
Every generation killed him,
and with increasingly evolved methods.
They made it their destiny as descendents to destroy him
once and for all.
Killing him became their legacy.
But each time he rose and called to them in love,
only to be destroyed again,
and again and again.
One bright day after generations of this rabid bloodthirstiness;
after a river of this
one man’s blood had flowed,
a child of this murderous brood
in trembling empathy embraced him,
only to be destroyed with him.
But he raised them together
and proclaimed…
“Enough of my blood has flowed.”
November, 2007
