Timothy Birdnow

Here are two poems marking the end of Roe v. Wade:

Death no Longer Rules

Today the oven cools
the ghoul no longer drools
Today the blood no longer pools
today death no longer rules

For half a century the pale horseman trod
Dead children strewn where he did nod
He took their lives with salt and rod
beyond fear of man or God

His disciples may be shocked
but God will not be mocked

He heard the cries of children dead
He heard the lies, saw their severed heads
the buzzing flies, the worms well fed

Their innocent blood screamed quite a din
demanding an end to this grave sin

And so the Creator of all that might be
set forth His hand over land and sea
He moved the hearts of the land of the free
who turned to Him on bended knee

Who dare fight Him, who dare stand
When the great Creator heals the land?

The prayers of tiny silent souls
like bearers of white hot flaming coals
burned terrors to idols made of gold
the day of reckoning soon to unfold

Unclean birds may all be flocked
but God will not be mocked

And on this day the prayers we'd pray
to end the ride of the rider gray
have come to fruition by the mighty Physician
our act of contrition
has improved our condition

With thanks from our rank
corpses no longer stank
butchers no longer yank
of their blood no more drank

Let's uncover our head for our children now dead
prayers in thanksgiving said
before we climb into bed

This isn't the end of the battle
they see us as cattle
but the cribs will now rattle
and the babies will prattle

Death and Hell will have no place
the final victor will hide his face
the bell not tolling for this special place
the wolf not giving chase

Or so we can hope.

Here's a one  on the end of Roe:

Roeing the River Styx

by Timothy Birdnow

Blind men wearing black
dined on flesh off children's back

Massacred the most very weak, repeatedly, conceitedly
foul birds pecking with beak greedily, speedily
wrecking small bodies as they speak.

Turning, turning, turning in unmarked graves, or burning and blowing as ashes in the wind
slaves to the black robes and their parents' sin

The communion of Hell
never turns out well
when souls you will sell
your guilt just won't quell

Young girls their prey
these riders gray
brought Death and Hell to the land
to applause and cheers or so it appears
and the gaity of marching bands, clapping hands

Oh how many bowels
have they filled with the souls
of unborn children dead, red, fed to the worms, burns on their salt-scorched head?

How many cried as the young unborn died? How long did they wait
for the end of debate, for the bloody hunger to abate, sate, for the fire to oblate?

To avoid any trouble they vanished under  rubble, their corpses now stubble
woebegotten, forgotten, the flesh melted and rotten

Roeing the great river Styx
rowing, blowing, going down into the abyss
the dead never missed
the children never kissed

Dressed as famine they brought death
as death they brought sin
as sin they brought a fifty year war only now we can win.

But win we will; they ate their fill
the worm is turning as the bodies stop burning, the yearning of the horseman at an end, we mend the wound in our nation's heart
it may only be a start but the reign of pain is coming to an end

Posted by: Timothy Birdnow at 11:21 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 617 words, total size 4 kb.