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Monday (6/1/09)

The vessel that for so long held our imagination is finally free of our living.
To its rest now. May she be a reminder of man’s arrogance, his gleeful dalliance with nature’s teeth.

The testament of our breathing’s riddled with slaughter. Gruesome weapons made of man’s intolerance walk the world without a home- a grave nomadic betrayal. The assassination of freewill is the irony in this riddle.

It is time for lights out, time to sleep, to dream. “Hush now. Everyone is weary. Hush. Drift away to your mind's eye, the olden days. You are not alone in your grief, your failing", at least there’s some throbbing comfort in that.

Not the first, not the last to frown upon man’s stage, his unending quest for power. But it’s the unknown end, the final curtain, that awaits our applause.

“Pro-life” is subjective, death penalty, preemptive war, poverty, smog, pharmaceuticals, neglect, indigenous genocide, religious persecution…
“Pro-lifers” are slain by their own failings.

They move like the lion, these rapists, these brooding beasts with honed claws and an angry use they seize more than flesh.

We stand in windowless cubicles waiting, seeking answers, shafts of dream to fall upon us. As we stay idle, the earth holds little mystery for us, nature moves past, growth languishes, hearts wane, spirits dissolve, knowledge emboldens our warring.

What of peace? Peace is indefinitely detained.



© 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
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