VIN 13- Monsters (Retribution Is Not Justice)

We have to stop looking at the people damaging our society as parts of our species. They are, but simultaneously, are not. They are aberrant. Anomalous. Evolutionary Fraknestein-monsters so hideous and frightening to look upon them is to vomit blood in repulsion. Not from any physical malady, but rather psycho-social and emotional ones– because the reality of their personalities and effect make them dangerously caustic.

But what to do once we’ve identified them, revealed their madness, located and cast them into light? How then do we seek retribution?

Simply? We do not.

Consider that idea, just for a moment; do nothing in retribution.

Why? Despite the damage and needless suffering, why do we not retaliate?

Why need we? The system these creatures have exploited is damaged and tearing itself apart. Thus, we need only push back where desired to bulwark what needs remain. Meanwhile, others of us can begin making repairs and changes to the new boundaries where required– at least until our society has reiterated, re-stabilized.

Huh? Exactly. This is why we seek no recompense.

So few people would understand these ideas, yet all of us exist via their principles– the mutational ones that dictate the simplest organisms survive. Also known as the path of least resistance, it is more than that; the shortest distance between two points, conceptually, of change in a system.

Society is a system. Change is the constant. For change to assert itself, its effected system must fracture, mutate, then reform having cast out its refuse and damage in the meantime. Again, in our case, these are concepts; ideologies, ideas, philosophies, ways of living incapable of coexistence between the two groups of Human and Mutant, “man” and “monster.”

But why do nothing, again?

Herein lies the point; not seeking revenge is not the act of a coward. Rather, it is the act of one whose mind and heart conflict with their nature. In essence, it is the benevolence of turning thyne other cheek, even if one knows it will be struck in turn.

Consider those monstrous aberrations for what they truly are; genetic mishaps.

We should neither fear nor hate them, but disallow them to possess the power they currently do. Not for any prejudicial reason, but because of the inherent, emotional instability at their own differences from the majority.

Ultimately, inside all of these Cronenbergs is an ugly child acting out from sadness and fear. Never having been loved nor sated, they simply grew bigger, uglier, and louder. Therefore, seeking retribution is engaging in that which perpetuates the cycle that has formed them.

Justice, on the other hand, will always be served. Swiftly. For life is much harder than death, and punishment need not be violent; only transforming, lasting. One need only find the perpetrator’s deepest weaknesses and pains, and strengthen or heal them.

Only then can Humans truly begin to heal themselves and their damaged kin.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Only Ourselves to Blame

It used to be,
you could do or say,
whatever you wanted,
but not today.

Electro-eyes catch all,
we see, say, and do,
and those that fight it,
are really far too few.

Spectral spies,
in darkened skies,
death’s gath’ring above.
Through them flow,
autonomous raptors,
whom slit the throats of doves.

Give a name,
they’ll show you a target.
Feel the same,
you’ll soon be mark-ed.

And we’ve only ourselves to blame.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Defy

I don’t want to go home,
smell the flames and death,
taste madness in the air.
Despair.

I’d rather drown
in a pitch-thick abyss,
than a sea of bright lies.
Realize.

I’d prefer a painful truth,
over comfortable nothings,
and watching them spread.
Dread.

Given the choice ‘tween,
happy lies, dark truths,
I choose the latter,
for nothing will extinguish truth’s glow.

Know.

Reality fades,
the universe with it.
Learn why,
defy.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: In Place of Dreams

I hear sirens in the distance,
over a foreground of dogs barking,
and the passing folly of man’s device.

They called us explorers,
when we reached this land,
then after rape and pillaging,
they called us masters–
And behind our backs, bastards.

Can’t blame ‘em, I guess.
Or at least, I don’t.
‘Cause in the end,
they’ll have their revenge.

We took this land by force, to reverie,
like we took their innocence.
They begged us only to till the land,
instead we cut and bled her, stole her purity.

They called us masters and bastards,
then the sun burned us down,
but we re-rose from the ashes,
and took earth as our own.

And now I hear sirens, and barking, and distant screams;
The latest of us to bake and broil in the evil we wrought.
In the end they got the last laughs,
and we nightmares in place of dreams.