"To the missiles chattering beam!" we bow.
“O! To bombs dropping from heaven!” we bend.
Such folly brings laughter and joyful eruptions
From the winking throng of toadies (and the dead).
“To green and surrendering grace!” we groan.
“O! To these foolish breasts adhere!” we drone.
We begin to assemble loyal cities from under the rubble
And erect love and honor of smoldering metal and bone.
“To our savior’s craft, give worship!” we entreat.
“O! To metal-souls, children's breath!” we shriek.
We carefully situate fingers and toes for bridges and roads
Leaving the best of the human frame for soaring metaphors.
“To leaders of machinery, give praise!” we beg.
“O! To brazen chops, living’s wonderment!” we grant.
We heave tanks and jets to fly over enemies of existence
And, weeping, we shed the masks that veil our disgrace.
© 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
The likely new chairman of the House Judiciary Committee says he’s just fighting bigotry in leading a Democrat jihad to deny law enforcement key terror-fighting tools. But he is in the pocket of Islamists. (More at Once Upon a Time…)
Democrats Push for Iraq withdrawal
Democrats Push for Troop Cuts Within Months
O! This vessel!
It wants! O! It requests
Bravery within it! As a child
In a storm.
We know terror.
It kills, and it drives our minds
To heart-thrusted vengeance
Of an incident, a day, a moment
Replayed over and over.
Ominous! War is ominous!
O! War! War
Abhors hope! Hates it
Like a field of dancing flowers
And children clad in dreams
Upon their delight.
But peace.
O! Peace is the ship of our existence
Floating upon the waters of our desire.
O! Peace brings laughter upon humankind
And makes an ally of terror and war
And the warmongers into utter fools.
For peace has the dancing flowers
Growing upon its fields
As the child its enchantment.
O! This vessel!
It must be wanted.
This ship needs sailing,
Guided bravely through!
Holding not revenge in their hearts
Or weapons in their hands.
Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman
Call It Treason