What softness lends to baby’s feet, movement in life’s yielding lips, in petite and gentle fingers, blue bird suppleness, noiseless radiance.
Stop.
And open your eyes. Tender turns of the head, small smile under red cheeks, soft hair waving down, engaging wonderment.
Stop.
And open your eyes. Arid guns at the steady aim. Rifles do not grapple with verdicts. Who is guilty? Aren’t we all?
Stop.
And open your eyes. Infection of oppressive thought, but the law cowers not in fear; it is man that has wrought the undoing of truth and breath.
Stop.
And open your eyes. Perhaps the child of ideas or the youth of convention might answer my query; will dying take wing? Will our dead child be familiar? Will the wet breath of malevolence toss water upon our infertile tree? Will the soul of our nation kill her child?
Stop.
And open your eyes. Will the children of this world give rhythm to the drums of war? Will the baby’s supple feet move to the beat of tawdry battle? Will war leave tasteless, life’s yielding lips? Might, instead, the petite and gentle fingers make a music of warless magnificence?
mrp
Woman On Trial For Killing Her 8 Children
That's very moving and sadly it's true.
ReplyDeleteThank you, patricia.
ReplyDeleteGood to see you.
intense and on target, thank you for this
ReplyDeleteYou are most welcome, Jenny...
ReplyDeleteLove this. Love the picture.
ReplyDeleteFor some odd reason,this reminds me of that Joni Mitchell anti Viet Nam song for some reason, The Fiddle and the Drum. Hmm, maybe because I as listening to it on the way home from work...
Do you know that song..awesome commentary about war. If I may share? It is sung a capella in her high beautiful reedy voice.
And so once again
My dear Johnny my dear friend
And so once again you are fightin' us all
And when I ask you why
You raise your sticks and cry, and I fall
Oh, my friend
How did you come
To trade the fiddle for the drum
You say I have turned
Like the enemies you've earned
But I can remember
All the good things you are
And so I ask you please
Can I help you find the peace and the star
Oh, my friend
What time is this
To trade the handshake for the fist
And so once again
Oh, America my friend
And so once again
You are fighting us all
And when we ask you why
You raise your sticks and cry and we fall
Oh, my friend
How did you come
To trade the fiddle for the drum
You say we have turned
Like the enemies you've earned
But we can remember
All the good things you are
And so we ask you please
Can we help you find the peace and the star
Oh my friend
We have all come
To fear the beating of your drum
Pinkfem,
ReplyDeleteExcellent.
I have listened to the song many times... and I haven't the slightest problem you leaving these powerful words here, my friend.
I am honored that my poem reminded you of this song...
Thank you.
perhaps if more were to read your poetry and reflect after doing so ...
ReplyDeleterory,
ReplyDeleteThank you for saying that my friend.
I could only hope to have that kind of impact on the masses with my poems...
Touching.
ReplyDeleteNeil,
ReplyDeleteThank you.
This poem has the most beautiful and tender phrases I have read in a very long time. Breath-catching, they are. A joy to read.
ReplyDelete:>)
ReplyDelete