POEM OF THE DAY
Flower War
Tlachinol xochitli
zan iyyo tonequimilol
yahoxochitl
Flowers of fire;
only they can be our garments:
Flowers of war.
Put down your weapons, soldiers.
The flowery god,
the plumed serpent
is gathering spring blossoms
in green meadows
and mountain gorges.
He is gathering fresh fire,
the little flowers
that bloom from spent shell casings.
Put down your death spitters,
ugly and depleted.
The god will give you weapons more beautiful
and honorable—Lances,
tipped not with the dark glitter of obsidian,
but with bright plumes.
Tlachinol xochitli
zan iyyo tonequimilol
yahoxochitl
Flowers of fire;
only they can be our garments:
Flowers of war.
Take off your helmets and armor.
The god will cloth you in fire,
flowers of fire, the bright rainment of flower war.
In the flower war,
you can be heroes,
you can be the champions.
The gods will be nourished,
the people will celebrate your sacrifice,
the glory in your capture.
you are the teotl ixiptla,
the divine images,
the flower warriors.
In flower war,
there is defeat with honor,
death will not sting, death will drink
for you are rich with octli,
the nectar and pollen
of divinity.
Dana Pattillo
Note: This poem is based on the "Aztec" concept and practise of Flower War. I can't find my little moleskin memorandum book with all my notes in it, but you can Google or Wiki up more infomation on the subject if I have sufficiently intrigued you.
PoD 116
8:43:43 PM 
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