109,808 poems read
Kyiv—Ancient city on the Dnieper.
These river waters have flowed for more centuries
then are counted in history books
And will continue to flow after all the puppets have turned to dust
and new trees have grown in groves by the Dnieper.
Were these banks once paradise, before our ancient ones built
a village here?
Did an ancient shaman have visions of what would happen here?
The dance of the puppets pulled by the strings of history.
Warriors and chieftains, then kings and lords, tyrants and Czars,
nazis and soviets all acting out their puppet dramas—
Their strings pulled by the dark lords of power and lust, greed and fear and anger.
How many times can a city of people be a battle ground?
Kyiv—in the 1920’s, the Bolsheviks imposed the collectives. The collectives failed.
Thousands died of hunger.
Hitler’s storm troopers made Kyiv a nightmare where thousands were sent to camps to die.
The ancient shamans were weeping in their dreams.
1944, the Soviets liberated Kyiv only to make it a Soviet Republic. In the 1990’s,
the Soviet empire collapsed.
For the first time in generations, you could breathe free air in Kiev.
In the 2020’s, the Russian dictator attacked Kuiv to make it, once again, part of Russia
The people said “No way” and fought with every bone in their body,
Cutting the strings of the puppets of the dark lord. The shamans and all the saints
are cheering them on. There is a paradise on the Dnieper--blessed by the blood
Of all who have gone before.