Volume > Issue > The Soaring Birds of Freedom

The Soaring Birds of Freedom


By David Mitros | May 1986

The soaring birds of freedom

Fall to the earth in yellow streams of fire,

Igniting the dry autumn grass

As Dionysus dances in the field

Where civilization dies

In a multitude of lies,

Where we drink to our prosperity

While the children yet unborn

Are waiting for the sword.


The olive trees are burning

In the grove where wise men spoke of truth;

Their voices now are silent

As the books of wisdom crackle in the fire,

And the words are soon forgotten

But a New Age is begotten

Of a liberated mankind:

A computer-programmed, corporate financed,

Universal brotherhood of

Peace and Love.

Enjoyed reading this?



You May Also Enjoy

Envy of the Empty Air

Of what do they dream

— the white-robed monks?

while we

with half-shaped forms


To Angela, Who Is Afraid of Clowns

Clowns are grandfathers

painted with strokes of laughter

who kiss lollipops

but never lick them.


My God, I’m grieved to say it is not true:

Not true I desire naught…