This is the new blog...CONFESSION ZERO



(Ben Heine - Cartoons)

“Many are lamenting September 28, 2006, as the death of American democracy. I beg to differ. I see it as a challenge. And this challenge needs to be addressed quickly and relentlessly. This issue needs to be seen through clear eyes, not eyes distorted by panic, anger or sorrow. Should we be outraged or afraid? Of course we should. Very soon anyone of us can be taken away, put into prison and locked away forever. We will not have the right to see the evidence against us. This is the stuff nightmares are made of. What do I think we should do about this? Scream.” (The complete post)


Gatherers of the seeds of hope and seasoned peace;
Painters of dreams and the fortified grasp of charity;
whisperers of truth and consolers of misery;
lovers, friends, rescuers, poets, chefs, writers, actors,
dreamers, teachers, public servants all,
believers of righteousness, inventors, carpenters,
mothers and fathers, priests and preachers,
holy men and women, coaches, dancers, singers, laborers,
the consumed by flesh, the downtrodden and poor,
the blind and deaf,
the scorched living,
athletes, scientists, doctors, cab drivers,
manufacturers, farmers, creatures of habit,
night owls, day trippers, hunters, astronomers, pilots,
swimmers, fishermen, racers, magicians and witches,
the peacemaker and warrior, grieving soldiers and marines and Air Force and Guardians of this land. The breathing flesh, the orators, the soft-spoken and loud, aunts and uncles, nephews and nieces, cousins, brothers and sisters, waiters and waitresses and clerks, truckers, mail carriers and punk rockers and metal and rappers and gospel and bluegrass and jazz and country and folk and jumpers and shooters and hunters and spenders…

To those still striding and those sunk low…
We have watched the fourth wall and the fifth column
Give death rise,
Seen the world, with no sign to kill, swallow the meek
and the child!
The wall is being erected that will keep us from the other,
our living.
We’ve been standing witnesses to the bloody dark wounds
festering incision,
A creeping vine choking heavily the very fabric of dream,
our silky dignity,
Fires and floods and famine and the god-headed cathedral
in false indemnity,
Horrible wars fomenting lies, death, sickness, and limbless
pale torturing…

Before night falls over all the faces of civilization
and darkness grows upon our doomed hand
and we’re left to cower in the dark
tracing blindly our miserable caves
we must ask ourselves;
what did we want of our art,
of our beautiful dance,
our prayerful song?
What did we want of our oil and war?
Where are our holdings
of our desirable spirit?
Our breathtaking land?
Our will to live?
Our want of love that splinters the stalk of wickedness?
The slake of our living’s restraint,
The unknowable quenching worship,
The vortex of light,
Our mystery?

When the darkness befalls all the faces of people
and dimness grows thick over our eyes
and we’re given to stumbling downward,
tracing blindly our wretched slum,
we’ll ask but this; “Why didn't we SCREAM?”

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

Inspired by Hill Country Gal's Scream!

(Ben Heine - Cartoons)

Related Posts with Thumbnails