Guernica: In the Form of a Sestina

Hector, may death feed on you like vultures.
Your family will soon see the sun baked blood
Dried on your face. I will hide your body
From all ‘til maggots have their fill. Your fate
Is on the blade of my sword. You can cry
The names of your children to me, to the gods;

I won’t listen to ya and who needs Gawd!
None can save ya from tha circlin’ vultures.
Choke on yer words ‘cause this noose strangles cries
Like a new-born bathed in birth blood.
Gag on the umbilical cord called fate.
I’m gonna cinch the breath from yer body.

Achillus, since I left, evrabody
Tells me that whites think they’s as strong as God
And that’s why I been runnin’. Lots of fate’s
In your words and you’d leave me for vultures
Sounds like, but I just can’t run no more. Blood-
Hounds o’ yours been trackin’, I hear ‘em cry:

Jew, all you will hear now is our war cry.
We are sick of all your talk. Nobody
Will listen when you talk peace yet seek blood.
Gaza is ours according to Allah,
And we will not rest until you vultures
Are off our land. Be prepared to meet your fate!

Hamas, your false cease-fires fool fate,
But Zion will not be tricked. May sirens cry
At your death, as they did when my son died. Vultures
Surrounded his armless, dead body.
Now I pray to my God
I get the chance to avenge my own blood.

The Trojan horizon was setting blood
While two enemies prepared for fate.
Hector threw his spear but missed the half god.
When he found he had no second, he cried
And then died when the spear pierced his body.
Achilles picked at him like a vulture.

We hear blood-curdling cries on the news and see
Stone dead bodies, slaughtered by people fighting
In the name of God(s). Are we vultures?

Posted in Perspective, Poem for Your Day, Poetry