Lagumbay.com Reflections on Love, Rage, and Fear

Trembling, fearing, humans pray
Like cowards with moral decay.
Oh the stress and pressure highly odd
Of being a Destroyer god.

From keeping track of prophecies
To tact and strange diplomacies,
A chosen few are cursed to trod
The path of a Destroyer god.

While every deity and boss
Gets admiration and applause,
No god nor mortal dare applaud
The works of a Destroyer god.

Lonely, grumpy, tired of life –
In hand, my sacrificial knife –
The destruction, far and broad
For I am a Destroyer god.

Not your mother’s soothing voice,
Not her gentle lullabye
No comfort as you wish for death –
That I would let you die.

She never taught you right from wrong –
That conceited selfish whore
The respect you never learned
and will not matter anymore.

Not your wife’s angelic touch,
Instead a blade against your skin.
It never mattered how you conquered,
Just that you would always win.

Not the courage of a man
In knowing death is near –
No song of comfort in this night
Shall reach your waiting ear.

I never really questioned
Responding to my dagger’s call.
Death’s angel beckoned in my heart
Demanding your torment and fall.

Sometime we may have been kindred
Sometime we may have been the same
Now you will lose more than you thought
On what you thought was a game.

Not your father’s searching –
You know he never cared
Yet you hold on with dying hope
To what little time you shared.

Did you know how this would end –
Of everything you never learned
How they would find your body here
Disfigured, mutilated, burned.

War, Famine, Genocide, Disease, Poverty
Intolerance, Ignorance, Injustice,
Suffering, Sorrow, Seclusion,
My Sadness,
My Afflictions,
My Hatred –
You can make all these things disappear
but you do not.

Mysterious Magic Box
to deer in headlights
divine intercession
working by telepathy
interpreting thought
transcribing intent
incoherent to coherent
challenged to a staring contest
the glass pane wins

Indignant ignorance
keys uncooperative
the machine is to blame
the hard drives are fried
the circuits in flames
connections confused
some verbal abuse
an elaborate ruse
num lock awaits

Absolute terror collides
with ego and pride
the throne in turn
transforms into
an electric chair
still proud to be illiterate
remorseless to the end
not stupid
not stupid
if only it could zap

Cute how they diagnose
with voodoo and mythology
some logical connection
that both tides and fates
are somehow turning
ones and zeros in defiance
nevermind the mindless
blame the appliance
beat the mouse into submission
the monitor into compliance
so much for self-reliance
need reluctant assistance

Time for nappy nappy
bad man scary
he not look at me
he not too happy
me made a boo boo
made a typo
and it go cuckoo
machine is beeping
bad man stares and scowls
leads me to weeping

Maniacal laughter
forget those pleasant thoughts
of happily ever after
the machines will not go faster
but they will still do the bidding
of their ruthless master –
an arcane spellcaster
who when set off goes after you
and will not stop
until your records show
you as Al-Qaeda’s number two
You thought you could complain
about my children with impunity
some diplomatic immunity –
now you’re a threat to the community
so I don’t think so.
Have a pleasant trip, though.
I hope you like Gitmo.