Bonjour Mme Lafarge

Pz-avatarby Robert Niebuhr24 Oct 2014

Momentarily I am frozen in time

Again I am a witness to all that has happened

Soon I am enveloped by the sound of countless voices

A cacophony of voices fills the heavens

Coming from those who fill the coliseum of Colossus

Rabble such as those who filled the coliseum in Rome


They chant

That the damned be given up to Madam Lafarge

Upon a Daiz

The thirteen sit

Six to either side

Except for tears impassive

As they listen

To the history of man’s inequity to man

Scribes have come from all points of the compass

From Egypt, the Holy Land, Greece, Rome, Europe.

The Andes, The Middle Kingdom and more

All to tell their story

And me with heavy heart from America

To tell mine

All to settle accounts

To speak of the future

If it exists

The thirteen shall listen, question and then decide

As I wait my turn, I think

There can be no lying, or excuses for what has happened

All played a part

Nothing can be hidden from the mirror of life

Again I am transfixed in time

History plays out again

It seems that we never learn

In the new land the immigrants can offer up thanks and begin anew

My story begins with the Covent

Written by men and blessed by their maker

Where all were created equal

Tho many were not

It would offer opportunity to all

But only in proportion to their efforts

Fair judgment would be bestowed upon all

Their acts would be there for all to see

A system of checks and balances was created

So that one could not overwhelm the other

I glanced at the mirror again

As I did, I see the beginnings of shadows

The worshipers of Mammon and Greed

The perversity and mendacity of the Law Makers

Who suggested a new System

A house of cards built upon sand

To benefit a few

Rather than the people

Who were their Electors

The people became hostile towards one another

War brought brother against brother

Nothing was settled

A hundred years passed

Before the least could no longer be denied the rights

Possessed by the majority

Yet so many squandered the opportunity

To be assimilated

To be forged anew

As they are poured from the melting pot of humanity

The money changers were at work

Distorting the truth

Creating wealth for few

Their transgressions would be put upon the shoulders

Of the masses and their seed

The once free were becoming slaves to those who provide their bread

The emperor and his court all wearing theatrical masks promised a

New Order if you would anoint them with the mantle of leadership

But all too soon many learned that freedom was to be abrogated

Assets were to be expropriated

Those that would question were labeled unstable, terrorists, uninformed

Not progressive

Change was promised and promised

The words were hollow rhetoric

There was no passion

To help

The poor, the homeless

The victims of nature’s disasters

They who had lost hope

All waiting for the changes that never came

The Emperor and his consorts told the people that everything

Was getting better

Yet, those that could see

Saw, that there was not a crust of bread upon the table

For many, except for a cloak of nothingness

The Emperor is naked for all to see

Wars were fought

Mountains of wealth were dispensed

But to what avail

As I look in the mirror I see a ragged trio

One carrying a tattered standard

One with a drum and the other a fife

Is there a chance that there is still a spark

Then in the mirror I see France and it is 1793

A voice in the coliseum bellows

Who is Mme. Lafarge?

Another voice answers

She is La Guillotine

Now it is my turn

I am asked

What is your name?

I reply

Maximilien Robes…….

I pause and quietly petition

Maker of all, they have forsaken you

Give them another chance so that all

Will come to your table