Skip to main content

Thursday (5/21/09)

Car bomb blast kills 41 in northwest Baghdad
The skin of the beast drips with sweat as it hovers over the sand, perplexed at the people’s will to survive, even as blood pours around them. Rain, despite a ships call for help, will continue to fill an angry sea.

Guantanamo inmate transfer blocked
Our green hope, our red fury, fear is still our emperor, sovereign of land and liberty…

Iran Announces Missile Test
Hi ho and a rat a tat tat! Listen for the war drums in that! Hi ho! And a thrum and clank, metal’s whir of a rolling tank! A rat a tat tat and hi and a ho, time for us to lock and load. Thrum thrum thrum thrum…

Feinstein: Bring Detainees to U.S.
O something cries down to us. Something boldly calls out, awaiting fear to abandon our ears.

U.S.: Airstrike deaths 'likely' accidental
Shhhh… Maybe no one will notice, when a missile falls in the desert and no one's around to hear it…






© 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

........•SHRIEKING MACHINE•........                  •HEAD-LINES•                           •RIP•     ---(“Russian missiles blast Ukrainian military academy and hospital, killing more than 50, officials say”)---    There are no more lessons to learn here, no more beds to hold the human wounded, just missile’s shrieking their grotesque ode, The Death of Humankind! RIP, children of God…    ---(“Hundreds attend Mercer Island vigil, march for murdered Israeli hostages”)---    Dear mourners, this is the brutal vacuum of a genocidal, terror-filled, indiscriminate war-machine made of fear and we are all hostages to its deafening roar! RIP, children of God…    ---(“10-year-old allegedly confesses to fatally shooting 82-year-old man and his daughter”)---    I must confess, this is part of war’s shrieking, children lost with a we...
Post a Comment
read the poem

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
32 comments
read the poem

Per Plex Ed

            PER+PLEX-ED When you haven’t heard the truth in so long, when you do, it rings a most familiar s ong. That’s the human song, the truth rolling out exactly when it should.      (If a truth is told and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound only to the one that spoke it?)    Yes, but our ears aren’t strong enough to hear it.     [a perplexed silence] © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
Post a Comment
read the poem