‘To Acknowledge or Not to Acknowledge’(poem)

By Khatchatur I. Pilikian, London UK, March 2010

‘To Acknowledge or Not to Acknowledge’
That is their Problem

Now is the time to watch a posh puppet show
With wonder and wow!
Two colonial powers are ready to bow
Their heads and torsos too,
To secure the blessing of the Big Brother, their Boss.
Both are set to indulge in a wrestling match, ordained,
After the national anthems are sung
And the arbiter’s bell is rung.


By Khatchatur I. Pilikian, London UK, March 2010

‘To Acknowledge or Not to Acknowledge’
That is their Problem

Now is the time to watch a posh puppet show
With wonder and wow!
Two colonial powers are ready to bow
Their heads and torsos too,
To secure the blessing of the Big Brother, their Boss.
Both are set to indulge in a wrestling match, ordained,
After the national anthems are sung
And the arbiter’s bell is rung.

 
Behold, the boisterous match is on.
The voting crowds will soon be won
Granted the entertainment goes on and on.
The cheering crowds applaud
The knockouts and knockdowns all;
Cracking their bones and loin
With puffs and ramblings in pain,
The wrestlers bodies embrace
Obliging their muscles and veins.

Yet the trophy’s worth betrays
Its awesome, estranged ploy:
To hold secure the right of a magnum denial, tight,
Of an unpunished, horrendous crime
–The primeval zenith of man’s inhumanity to man.

Thus is the trophy party: an ancient people,
Uprooted away from their ancestral homeland
And from all millennial heritage, torn;
They have dared to survive and mourn
The millions of their beloved, in death forlorn,
Yearning, struggling and hoping for justice and peace
They have endured for long the heinous crime decreed
And its denial too,
All planned in advance and executed for sure
By the senior colonial power
Of the wrestling party of two
–That led the Nuclear Century’s toll
Of genocide profits’ prosper in toil.

Behold, the survivors and the wise elders
Of Second World War’s magnum genocide,
Acknowledged worldwide,
Are elevated up the victims’ board
And bestowed upon their multi-million loss
Is a Scriptural title, that of ‘Holocaust’
–Certainly unlike the earthly ‘Genocide’
Coined decades before and in the dock well tried.

Thus, ‘Holocaust’ obliges to regard and mourn
The perished loved ones as sacrificial lambs
And whole-burnt offerings for purification,
Even atonement for sins in the past
–Just as it was once thought, equally pitiful,
Of the trophy party’s loss, blighted then too
By the macabre act of State Terror
Which had yet no name
So properly coined.

Often cheerleaders, sometimes critics
Of puppet matches of their State shows,
Some wiser elders, most tellingly so,
Are luxuriating in their privilege,
Graced by and through self-acclaimed mission
As arbiters/savants, to decide whether
‘To acknowledge, or not to acknowledge’
The First World War’s premiere genocide
–Already ranked low, below ‘Holocaust’

Sooner than later
The posh sponsor of the current show,
The peak imperial iron-crowned power,
Will not hesitate and refrain from
Advising the survivors,
The lobbying elders of the first genocide
To be wise, grateful and eternally so
To the generosity of the referees,
Those elders, most wise, of ‘The Holocaust’,
For their obliging, bequest of favour,
Finally to grant the label so desired,
That of ‘Genocide’, to their people’s loss
–The people robbed of homeland and ethnos.

Officially to enchant the gift of title
Another Road Map,
Unashamedly the second in row,
Already designed
Is put ‘on the square’
Conjured to be signed
— ‘Manufacturing Consent’
To stalk the Master’s Sign.

Hence, the way would be so smoothly paved
Towards a tripartite, wrestling tournament
And a puppets’ shindig of a Trismegistus match.
Therein is hoped to gain
Those prized, winning votes
Of the cheerleaders and mass,
Both simpleton and wise
–The Master’s surmise for Democratic Surplus.

But remember we must
With sorrow, compassion and rage
The valiant survivors of the ethnic cleansing
Of the first Road Map
–Now Map of a Quartet, much drummed about.
Behold, the survivors and their children too
Are pushed towards the abyss of sheer despair,
Nay, a Hara-kiri of beyond compare.
Yet again it’s one more
Collateral Damage, gained
For the neo senile, deranged world order
Of the Empire of the old, iron disorder.

3 comments
  1. Poem by K. Pilikian

    It is a beautiful poem.
    I always read your articles and enjoy them a lot.
    Keep up the good job.

  2. A Prayer…

    DE PROFUNDIS…

    IV/XXIV

    Our Father,
    who are and were in heaven
    when Your children were led to slaughter
    like so many sheep and cattle,
    hallowed be Thy name,
    for some of them survived
    and to this day wait for
    Your Kingdom to come
    and Your will to be done on earth
    as it is in Your heaven, where a million
    and a half of Your children — our kin —
    after a stay of nine decades in Your House
    still await justice for their… “alleged”
    martyrdom in a forest of crosses
    raised where not a tree grows
    and only the unredeemed
    blood of martyrs flowed
    irrigating the sands
    for a new crop
    of swords…

    Give us this day, oh Father, something
    other than our daily dread
    of denial and despair…
    and forgive us our trespasses – as you shower
    those who trespassed against us
    with ill-gained success and infinite power
    over all that once walked tall in Your shadow
    and now crawl on the face of this earth,
    this dying planet, whose dust and ashes —
    in Your own blessed words —
    the meek shall inherit someday…
    after time and space, light and darkness
    have long been forgotten…

    And… oh! Lead us not into temptation, Lord,
    lest, offending Your chosen people, we covet
    retribution or – Heaven forbid – even… justice…
    but deliver us from the evil of false witness, for it distorts,
    demeans and stains the divine power,
    and the glory of Your Kingdom
    forever and ever…

    Amen.

    Tatul Sonentz

    1. Dear Tatul, I am very touched
      Dear Tatul, I am very touched by your poem…I love it. Thank you.s.z.

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