This is the new blog...CONFESSION ZERO
Showing posts with label empire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label empire. Show all posts

TREMBLING LOAM

Another poem culled from the past (with updated links)...


O spindling reason, close thy soiled and gruesome jaw’s
Surging rationale like a thimble of water to thirst;
We’ve no blood left to drip our cheerless dreams!

Dreadful is our cresting obsession with greed,
Horrible is our pale service to the lords of death
And monstrous our empire’s approaching fury!

The waters flow with the slake of our wickedness
And these vile works speed the thunderous fortunes
Of the sacred beasts come to change what we would not...

O why can’t we see that our indifference to rigid awe
Has the world’s doorways strangled with skeletons
And unearthed the creatures quivering wings?

Like a mother in the shadow of night we can, if we choose,
Erect a grand temple from out of our bosomed courage
And quell this; our trembling loam of mounting death!

WAR ON THE ONE-EYED KINGS



In this; the blistering wave,
What is remembered but the last, the
Most recent detonation of everlasting war
Darkening even the most well lit sphere?
That which calls down its subjects
To deliver sermons on the back of the sun
For a people that believe in faith
More than themselves in the hearth of holiness
That goes unchained?
Anything less (or more)…
A fire burns.
Everything is contaminated, dirty. Terror is the cable
Which straps the bomb, fear; its cart.
The derelict move about,
Carrying on, as one-eyed kings and their henchmen,
Whose hands are honed into razors and
Whose hearts strike as drums echoing low the streets,
Chop the wooden throats of the guilty trees.
In this sphere
Hope shrinks of its throbbing bravery.
“This is no way to live!”
Explodes the seers.
“This is pure folly bathing in impure madness!”
But not to any invisible deity or dream merchant,
Like children holding hands praying to escape
The cynical hands of their fathers,
The gods of youth safely hold them.
The seers implore mankind,
Pleading that hope still flows with
Bright and igniting flesh
Retaining the power to bow humanity.
Of this authority we lend our flesh
For there is nothing else to save.
The only course to lift us out,
Up from soiled failure,
Above the turgid shackles
Binding our feet to war.
O! Let this be our mission!
Let it be our heartrending sermon
Running like rivers over our lips
Into the heart of every city,
Into the brightest lamppost-
"War must be shackled
And marched into the fire."



© 2008 mrp/tpm

Imperialism's Rant



What is one of the bigger problems facing the USA today?

-video removed by You Tube :>/-

All the products of people like Ted Nugent, and Ted Nugent, for he is a product of other "Ted Nugent’s", and they are all the byproduct of years and years of the (1) dumbing down of the American education system, particularly K through 12, (2) which includes the educators. They are a product as well of (3) the lack of any worthy historical perspectives and of (4) the growing divide and disconnect between the rich and the middleclass/poor.

(1) George W. Bush: “The illiteracy rate of our children are appalling.”

(2) The educators, both k-12 and college professors, are, in many cases just plain lazy and do not search for the truths under the sheen of their own phantom power, or they have incorporated the lies they’ve been sold into their own fixed paradigm of reality (truth) and then pass this “truth” down from generation to generation until the result is practically impossible to salvage and the “truth” is barely discernable from the lie.

(3) A byproduct of the entrenched lies is the inability for us to view reality with the educated perspective of our own countries history, especially the last fifty years of it. One mention of empire or atrocities perpetrated by the US government and you’re likely to be labeled a “traitor” or a “terrorist”, two readily lobbed words from those with no bona fide perspective.

(4) The divide of rich and poor and its inevitable disconnect are not just a result of “the way the ball bounced”, in other words they are not happenstance. They are a concerted effort to maximize empire. It is designed to line the pockets of the few and place the “slave” population in the untenable position of survival without turning to crime or escaping through drug use, which includes caffeine, nicotine, over the counter type drugs and the illicit types. It’s important to note that the imperialist gets richer from this scenario. Big pharmacy equals big money and is, in and of itself, a virulent and extremely profitable turntable of recidivism. Big Pharma is the energizer bunny for all the other imperialist corporations.

Ted Nugent and the gentleman featured in the video are the direct result of a concerted effort (imperialism) by the powers that be to reduce the debate in this country to a driveling, unimaginative, inane, rant. A rant that benefits neither the speaker nor the listener, all it does is create a greater ignorance and further distances any hope of our actually hearing “the truth”, or better yet, acting upon this truth when we do hear it.

There are also a good number of intelligent people in this country that are just as ignorant, some willful, others not, only these people have positions of power and influence which makes them all the more dangerous to the much needed truth.

Coming after these influential souls, are the true power brokers, the powers that be, as they are oft called. Whether they are the products of willful ignorance or just pure narcissists matters not, for they all stem from the same vine and they know precisely what their actions are producing. Take Iraq for instance; the occupation of Iraq may not seem as it has gone as planned, or even Afghanistan, for that matter, but in truth, it has gone masterfully well for the imperialists.
Follow the money.

It will take many, many years for Iraq to recover from American (imperialistic) intervention, yet, during this time, America will have placed itself strategically within Iraq’s borders and never give her the chance. The imperialist will allow her to resemble a beacon of democracy while not actually ever being one. Appearances can be rather deceiving, especially when viewed through the lens of empire.

The imperialist needs Iraq to be poor and vacant of resistance and empty of rebellious puppets like Saddam Hussein. The imperialist does not want an independent Iraq; it wants an Iraq that is a partner to “US interests” until the time comes that it is drained of any and all resources (oil) and no longer holds any strategic value, save for a pathway toward more conquests. For this reason it is logical, at least to the neocon, that Iran is next in line. It is not because Iran poses a real and lasting threat to its neighbors or to the American people, far from it. If anything Iran is a self-sufficient, self-sustaining state with no more of a crazed and evil man at the helm than has the US, more intelligent, yes, but no more sinister. Iran is self-sustaining and that doesn’t fit the imperial mold; any nation that does not readily allow empire’s temptress to climb into its bed (only to take all the covers) will not be tolerated.

So, as with Iraq, Iran is in the path of the only kind of empire there is; lethal.

If you are not aware that America is indeed a ruthless empire, might I suggest you begin listening to the voices of real power, I mean really listen! Stop merely ingesting their words as an inevitable path that the world is naturally taking and instead begin to dissect their words, test them, and weigh them against the actions of their orator. It matters not the speakers party affiliation, their gender or race or color or religion, for empire recognizes and is allegiant only to empire. The only question that truly matters when it comes to the voices of real power, do their words, combined with their actions, benefit the entire peoples of this world?

Here is my gut and head talking and listening and my eyes witnessing:
Iraq was never meant to be a beacon of democracy for the Middle East to emulate. Never. It is merely a stepping stone for the power hungry elite and has all the bloody markings of empire on the march. It cannot end well, not for the people of the world, unless we begin to listen and act- now...


© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman

Ted Nugent: Draft Dodging Coward

Hannity Hearts Nugent


Do you have something you need to say? Maybe a rant to get off your chest?
Then follow this link and liberate it!



Looking back- One year ago today on A Poetic Justice

EXPAND THE POST +/-
EMPIRE'S MILITANT

Child,
Who are these so-called militants? Faint brooding death?
Who are these soulless, wicked insurgents? Death’s reveling?
Freedom fighter? Might’s persuaded
equilibrium?
Are the bombs dropped on homes empire’s reveling echo?
Is there cause to celebrate when a child’s body is shredded
At shrapnel’s forlorn behest; life swallowed by almighty throat?

Child,
Who are these militants? The wrath of God?
Insurgents; evil martyrs for a lost cause?
Are they the back of vengeance? The mirror held up?
Slipped devils wrenching Armageddon?
Is there cause to rejoice as the missile’s valor topples
Before mothers and fathers lunged in freedom?

Child,
Across the land into the mosques, into the sovereign home,
Wars
snarled device writhes on the ground and upon the air
Beseeching men to volley detonation to ancient sacrificial carnage,
So who are these
ferocious militants and soulless insurgents?
Death’s own reveling in power's thrashed persuasion?
The child, for lack of hue, answers not…




© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman



Previous Post - PAINTING TIME



A Poetic Justice Photomontage



GATES OF HELL



The Fall of Rome
by Adrian Dorrington

The Romans had existed as an important power for over 1000 years. They had brought stability, prosperity, and order to the civilised West. Excellent roads connected the far reaches of the empire with the capital at Rome. These were built originally for military purposes but improved all communications and trade. Roman law kept the internal peace and 20 to 30 Roman legions defended the frontiers.
All was not perfect, however. Emperors held absolute authority. This worked well with good emperors, but incompetent ones could do great harm. The rules for succession to the throne were never clear, and debilitating civil wars often resulted. The bureaucracy that managed the empire on a daily basis grew more corrupt, increasing the dissatisfaction of the common citizen. The wealth of the empire gradually concentrated in the hands of a minority while a large slave population did most of the work. The borders of the empire were immense and put a strain on military resources (500,000 soldiers defended a frontier that required 3 million or more to be secured). Roman conquests had ceased in the second century A.D., bringing an end to massive inflows of plunder and slaves. Taxes increased and production fell as the work force declined. A plague may have killed 20 percent of the empire's population in the third and fourth centuries, further reducing trade and production.

The $Cost$ of War Unnoticed

by Lori Montgomery
The global war on terror, as President Bush calls the fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan and related military operations, is about to become the second-most-expensive conflict in U.S. history, after World War II.
Since the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, Congress has approved more than $609 billion for the wars, a figure likely to stand as lawmakers rework their latest spending bill in response to a Bush veto. Requests for $145 billion more await congressional action and would raise the cost in inflation-adjusted dollars beyond the cost of the wars in Korea and Vietnam.
But the United States is vastly richer than it was in those days, and the nation's wealth now dwarfs the price of war, economists said. Last year, spending in Iraq amounted to less than 1 percent of the total economy -- about as much as Americans spent shopping online and less than half what they spent at Wal-Mart. Total defense spending is 4 percent of gross domestic product, the figure that measures the nation's economic output. In contrast, defense spending ate up 14 percent of GDP at the height of the Korean War and 9 percent during the Vietnam War.



Our authority!
Our authority and nothing else
Can end this; our termination.
The mission cannot stand.
The people cannot rest.
We must remember the blood spilled from thousands,
Troop and civilian; slaughtered, battered, injured;
Crucified along this blunder strewn path.
Six hundred and nine billion served
At the foot of gluttony,
The hands of apathy,
The talons of empire…
Reaching through the gloom.
We will not trace this time,
We will not remember even its stench.
We will not hear the echoing cry of “rise up”!
(Sacrifice has not been asked of us.)
Our surrender will be our forged glory;
The resonance of the sheer absurdity
We’ve found rumbling in the sticky swamp
Of stay the course hammering our ears.

Of this tragic loss we’ll most remember.

I wonder what great men stood on the Senate floor
Pushing back at the gates of hell opening on Rome?


© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman

Crooked Timber - Decline and Fall



Previous Post - BAD NEIGHBORHOOD



OCCASION FOR ALL NATIONS (again)

READ THE POEM +/-
We move swiftly to the call of our great nation
Past our half-empty-truths of an infant history
Balanced beyond the gaze of Lady Liberty
Inundated with the gape of knowing eyes
And the weight of truth under the murmuring sky. O! America we are too immediate with judgment,
Overwhelmed in our wolf-jawed thinking
So harsh upon our dim view of the world;
A willfully ignorant Plexiglass shroud
Merciless to those deemed an axis of evil.
We do not much think of others, save for the dead,
Or the not quite living shells of our craving.
Have we not urged our soul toward the abyss?
To a reckoning if we ignore the plea of fellow man
And wet not the desiccated lips of our neighbor?
Are we not alive, tasting the future of blazing night,
Gazing in awe at the horrific bearing of our despair?
That we are estranged of our creation’s intent
Should give us bleeding thoughts of providence,
Striking our temples in agonizing white-eyed flesh.
Let the brown heifer search for the better meadow,
The flowers seek out their own seed’s beginning,
Waters time to heal of our most warred commodity,
Give occasion for all nations to mourn their dead
And daybreak to find its way through our mantle of night.



Copyright © 2007 mrp / thepoetryman


REVOLUTION

READ THE POEM +/-


US and British occupation of Iraq is regarded as the re-emergence of the old colonialist practices of the western empires in some quarters. The real ambitions underlying the brutal onslaught are still highly questionable - and then there are the blatant lies over weapons of mass destruction originally used to justify the war. There were no great victory marches by the occupiers, nor were they thrown garlands of flowers and greeted in triumph. More US soldiers have died in Iraq since George Bush declared an end to the war on 1 May 2003 prompting the question: Will Iraq turn into a new Vietnam eventually bringing the US to its senses ... or perhaps to its knees?
US policy towards Iraq has always been shaped by the country’s rich oil resources, its strategic location on the Gulf and its regional weight.
Iraq ranks only second to Saudi Arabia for its oil resources, and was the world’s second largest oil exporter before the Iraq-Iran war broke out in 1980.
The US has always been a key importer of Iraqi oil. Even under the UN sanctions, US companies imported some 750,000 barrels per day (bpd) from Iraq until the
end of 2002.

(Flag by Ben Heine)

The Bush administration has justified its war against Iraq on three grounds: Saddam Hussein's alleged possession of weapons of mass destruction, his links to so-called terrorists, and liberating Iraqis from oppression and tyranny.
Advocates of war in the US administration claimed that Iraq had continued to develop WMDs, and with Saddam Hussein capable of making them available to organisations such as al-Qaida, it put the US at imminent risk.
However, a closer analysis of US behaviour, as well as the thinking of the pro-war camp inside the Bush administration, reveals that the justifications were convenient excuses for mobilising US public opinion.
The war on Iraq was planned over several years, promoted by an influential group of neo-conservatives, made possible by the terrorist attacks of 11 September 2001, and marketed by the right-wing
pundits and media.

(Tottem by Ben Heine)

U.S. October Death Toll in Iraq Hits 70
…The military says the sharp increase in U.S. casualties - 70 so far this month - is tied to Ramadan and a security crackdown that has left American forces more vulnerable to attack in Baghdad and its suburbs. Muslim tenets hold that fighting a foreign occupation force during Islam's holy month puts a believer especially
close to God.


Revolution!
The power scale is bending, disturbed
By bomb laden souls bent against empire.
It isn’t terror… it is tragedy.
Shakespeare could not have crafted it better.
Revolution!

Upon the riddled carcass of wars yowl
And the slaughter of human cells
Upon the somber sands of death,
This drama crests inside its fourth act.
Revolution!
The scene now set with harrowed seraphs
Feeling bursts of metal strafe the waning soul,
And ending their hallowed harvest
Weary of this; our sloping future.
Revolution!
Man cannot sustain this blast;
War penetrating even the angel’s love.
The life taker and the giver, entrenched,
Bogged down in the black swamp
Unable to right their self-same falling;
Indistinguishable in their smirking speech
And muck ridden paws they murder the other.
Revolution!
Upon the riddled carcass of wars yowl
Of obliteration of human cells
On the somber sands of death,
This tragedy’s inside its fourth act.


Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman



Ben Heine - Cartoons

QUESTIONS FROM ANOTHER GOD

READ THE POEM +/-




ANOTHER GOD: Where is the light emanating from your living?

ANSWER: Snuggled tightly to our ashen mother of sustenance, her concrete cloth lashed tightly `round our mouths while decaying organs clang upon their rusty pipes; a reverie to the stone dragons sleeping in our dark.

ANOTHER GOD: Where are the soft, milk-filled breasts of your suckling mercy? Have they too been punctured by the weight of your sins? Oozing out offerings at the foot of tyranny’s trough?

ANSWER: All’s been drained, shipped away in barrels.

ANOTHER GOD: How do you endure, pitiful as you are?

ANSWER: We are homeless upon these darkened streets. Homeless and hungry in our unremarkable dwelling, begging that we might buy back scant drops of her nectar.

ANOTHER GOD: Above the granite facing of shadow yonder stands your emaciated lady. She stares eyeless toward the spanning ocean, might she not save you?

ANSWER: No. Her light has long been gone, spent, sold.

ANOTHER GOD: Was she ever beautiful?

ANSWER: Her light once spread out over the world.

ANOTHER GOD: She’s nothing to offer you now?

ANSWER: Just her prostituted limbs rising lightless above the water.

ANOTHER GOD: No light? No dawn? No curve of fervent hope?

ANSWER: Hope?

ANOTHER GOD: Yes. Hope.




Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman

SCREAM

READ THE POEM +/-




(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)


SCREAM

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)

A SMALL HAND

READ THE POEM +/-




The new light was lean;
crawling
like a horrid serpent
it made its nest.

It slipped over the eyes of the children
certain not to rouse them of their sleep.

The wailing came next,
its throat,
with its lament
a woeful tide of loss.

Faint at first,
then
to shattering pale prayers
with its great howl.

Have we not enough
madness, destruction,
man’s angry shell
over children's throats?

Are there now
other rifles to aim,
bombs to plunge
like God’s will?

Her small hand motions to us
from the mists of tomorrow,
pleading, come forward
out war’s great sorrow.

HOWLING BOYS




It’s been years since I told the howling boys to run.
`Run', I yelled!
`They’re coming!
Coming with the chips
To let slip
‘neath your skin!'

O! This incalculable age!

The earth, now a pitched hue,
Everything roofed in ice,
The face of the Auschwitz sky now hovers,
Wrinkled and battered by the oven
Of its own treacherous star.

The trees have long burned,
All that remains are bony slivers
Jutting up like the spindles of those
Once most towering shafts.

The foul and the fish and the beasts
Have long ago finished eating one the other.
The oceans and seas are nothing more than
Vast echoing lands of waste.
The lakes and rivers and streams are black-knifed viens.

O! This incalculable age!

Years after the final battle
The pitching clouds of hubris blot the sun;
A tragedy mask etched in longing…
`Run, howling boys! Goddamnit! Run!'


Copyright © 2006 mrp

COLOSSAL HEAD



Empire tosses its colossal head on the rooftops of Iraq
And children and mothers and fathers are redeyed of seeking.
They wish to converse of loss, of a gut wrenching pain.
They wish to be free of it, to rend it impotent, joyful.

Near the center of life militant troops beat down doors
Calling out its name, “Terror!” “Terror!” “Terror!”
“We need leave this red hell of our making!
We need pack it up and march ever onward!”

The mammoth head spits down upon them
And wags its bloody tongue toward the east.
It is hungry for more; ravenous for unholy kingdom,
Dried lips smacking its unquenchable thirst.

Kidnapped by its own gluttony it tosses back
And still, redeyed children and mothers and fathers seek it out.
They’ve not had their words yet, they need them.
They wish to be free of it, to rend it lifeless.

Empire tosses its colossal head on the rooftops of Iraq,
(its arms and legs and torso lay dead upon the ground).

Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman


SQUALLING STILLNESS

At the weekend, one top state department official called them a good PR move to draw attention", while the camp commander said it was an "act of asymmetric warfare waged against us". "I wouldn't characterise this as a good PR move," Cully Stimson, US deputy assistance secretary of defence, told the BBC's Today programme, on Monday. "What I would say is that we are always concerned when someone takes his own life, because as Americans we value life even if it is the life of a violent terrorist captured waging war against our country."

(With the minuscule world’s squalling stillness
Erupting solidly through the callous smoothness
Are we to downright believe the upright deceit,
To misunderstand its audacious correctness?

This finite universe lashes kindly against its void.
Words are meaningless in the silent pertinence,
Our smiling and dismal days writhe still of wishes
And turn back goodness upon their deviant constancy…)

How could words have lost their meaning that day?
Why is nothing to be believed after the plane’s shadows?
Have they so ruthlessly shattered our principles
That even our language holds no meaning?

How can we conceive serenity lying in the fatal position?
How can we erect peace with all of our words bent in war?
If we fight for other’s freedoms while our own fall away
The shrieking birds toppled more than just our towers…


Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman


Big Stick and a Carrot (The Anomoly)


AND WE REJOICE!

“…even as the holy and the righteous cannot rise beyond the highest which is in each of you, so the wicked and the weak cannot fall lower than the lowest which is in you also…”


A killer of man has himself been killed,
And we rejoice!
He knew it was coming and so did we…
And we rejoice!
No more car bombs.
No more shrapnel-shelled bodies.
No more death!
We rejoice!
The killer’s been killed!
Yes! Praise God!
We rejoice!
The killing is over!
The killer is killed!
And we rejoice in his killing!
We rejoice!
We rejoice for we knew it was coming
And he knew it, too!
The killing is over
Now bring home the troops!

Bring our children home.
The killer’s been killed…
It’s time for ticker-tape parades,
Proud flag waving,
National anthems,
Time to re-release
the movie Top Gun,
And dance in the wet streets!
Rejoice!
Rejoice!
Rejoice!
Rejoice!
BOOM!




Copyright © 2006 mrp

EMPIRE'S MILITANT

Child,
Who are these so-called militants? Faint brooding death?
Who are these soulless, wicked insurgents? Death’s reveling?
Freedom fighter? Might’s persuaded equilibrium?
Are the bombs dropped on homes empire’s reveling echo?
Is there cause to celebrate when a child’s body is shredded
At shrapnel’s forlorn behest; life swallowed by almighty throat?

Child,
Who are these militants? The wrath of God?
Insurgents;evil martyrs for a lost cause?
Are they the back of vengeance? The mirror held up?
Slipped devils wrenching Armageddon?
Is there cause to rejoice as the missile’s valor topples
Before mothers and fathers lunged in freedom?

Child,
Across the land into the mosques, into the sovereign home,
Wars snarled device writhes on the ground and upon the air
Beseeching men to volley detonation to ancient sacrificial carnage,
So who are these ferocious militants and soulless insurgents?
Death’s own reveling in power's thrashed persuasion?
The child, for lack of hue, answers not…


Copyright © 2006 mrp

THE SHADOW'S TALON






Must we now hear of this?
Must the Iraqi people
Endure it?
Can we not see our rage
Brings upon talon amiss?

O! People, children of Iraq!
Do not walk in silence
With feet of stone,
Recoil into the shadows
But do not let your cowering
Become your darkness.

Breathe yet tomorrow,
Struggle from under error,
Stash your spirit in freedom,
Teach your children
That bombs are the graft
Of terror.




mrp

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