phoenix bird image

Speaking with A Phoenix

main criss banner for spiritseid

War and cruelty is mankind’s exercise of power. We complain when it’s our turn but mostly stay silent when others suffer. Arguing over fault instead of ending the cycle. We use the spoonfed arguments of people who profit from war and violence, even as we suffer. If we continue to support violence and glorify cruelty, how will it end? Speaking With A Phoenix is about reflecting. War and cruelty affects everyone. This poem is what it seems like it is, but it’s really not. Enjoy Speaking with A Phoenix.

Ten thousand degrees hotter

That’s my fire

What could the lowly phoenix know

I am that kind of revision for what I’ve been through

Even as the bird rises from the ashes it cannot help but to acknowledge

The life I’ve lived and the burden I was given

At my birth to carry

By nations; over their waters, their many hills and valleys

All it has seen is death from who knows what

I’ve had my ankles chained, been whipped and raped

And mutilated before I was lynched

A practice of some of the vilest gentlemen – and their ladies

Who spoke eloquently of peace while spitting on my children and I

They told me of a God who said be good and obedient

Yet there was no love or obedience toward me

I was bound while my daughters were raped by these “goodly” gentlemen

These goodly men who to this day come to prayer and confession

Tell me Phoenix, did they repent or throw away their sacrifice and show mercy

I was even bound in the rain in the open gate naked

Chained to a tree for nothing more than reading a book

For trying to understand the language being forced upon me

Somehow, they got it in their heads that I was better off for this

Than I was content in my city before these good men betrayed me

Then I heard this fable about a bird that rises after death

And I was through and thoroughly impressed

Until I fully realized in the verse

That this phoenix was nothing more than empty words

That bird never died the way I died

Never was beaten down and was still given strength to rise

Did it thrive under the gravel of oppression without realizing

And then stood side by side with the oppressor as evil assimilated its children

Phoenix can’t know the pain that I know

So what of this lowly sparrow

The good tale spun to make it graceful-like

How dare they give it such a romantic visage

While I strive and never saw my elevation

Above the station of a servant to a few

Who forcefully removed me from my beautiful shores

To a land benign and full of cold white snow

Where I was forced to die the death told in the tale of the winged

Graceful-like bird that flew after tasting the empty

Cup of death and rose days after

Hmm – I have to ask you

Oh land that my children reside

Openly denying their ancestors’ pride

During assimilation they were forced to resign

The names of their parents for the name of the dying

Man, the emptiness I feel inside of them

Has the one who told them died in vain

He spoke, He said true to a fault

My people, my people know not who they are

They know not their names

They know not they’re vain

They know nothing of their former glory

Because they look only to the place from which their pains come

For aid in times of need

Never realizing that their need to cause pain arises from the pain

And giving their power to the causing pain clause

The same who told the story of the phoenix

I hear of lands far in the past

Their stories told in glorious allegories turned true

Though spinning of tales that turned history to the blue

Phoenix, phoenix do you now see

What tales came out of my nations

The savages that bludgeoned us while we slept mocks us

Depicting us running through bushes and eating one another

They tell their women and children we have spears and bones through our noses

Fearful and inglorious our riotous fables

Written by the same who wrote your-story

Cities were decimated as beautiful as they once were

Now broken and shattered left to ruins for the generations after to find

And view as monuments of an age said peoples, unknown

With a slight revision of a whisper of a people’s past

How many am I that died

Phoenix, the fortunate fabled bird that dies once and rises

I die for no reason, and die, and die, and continue to die in these days

Where my own children gleefully waste each other in the light of day

We can blame others, but it is shameful to blame the killers

Yet to stop, there is an unwillingness to even consider

This shedding of innocent blood gives each murderer a thrill of sorts

After all, it is just a little sport

Even those calling themselves names with which they were labeled

How foolish is it phoenix for me to behold

This people, these children of mind once bold

In their ways they can be made peaceful

Now turned the warlords of old

I die again watching them spill their own blood

Bragging shamelessly of the kill like it’s a badge of honor

No code could ever be so divisive as this

Tell me, phoenix what should be made of it

The endless insanity that reaches me

From morning till night when I am in thoughts so deep

I am robbed of peace and tranquility

Because I hear your tale and this is what I see

Tell me in truth, what could you be

More than I, oh phoenix

How would you rise

With my burden on your back or the way I died

Would you simply sit in a grave awaiting a revival

Would you in your wisdom seek to trivialize

For the sake of peace and getting along daily

The death you’re forced to die again and again

The suffering, the shame, and all the pain held for generations

You are a bird told to suffer and live

So in truth we have a common element in life

To suffer the suffering of our transgressors

To rise after we have been beaten and killed

But I suffer beyond the point of death

What say you phoenix

Would you rise to face the day under these conditions

For each time I rise it is in the belly of a beast

That killed me seventy times seven and continues killing me still

Subscription received!

Please check your email to confirm your newsletter subscription.

Newsletter Above| Like what you read?
Spiritseid load bannerSpiritseid is looking for writers to join the platform before the launch of Spiritseid, the magazine. If you would like to request guest posting(s) or would like to join the Spiritseid platform as a writer, visit our story page. We do have a donation page with one time and monthly options, any support helps with website upkeep and development, and marketing. Anything else, please leave a comment or contact Spiritseid here
Don’t forget| Subscribe to our newsletter

What did you think

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.