Showing posts from September 19, 2010

The Seeds of Our Greed (25th September Song)

When I saw them they had no shoes, their stomachs growled like lions, their lips, that of furious angels when they saw me coming. I looked at them, their ragged shirts, their filthy fingernails and feet, a hungry dog’s demeanor, blue eyes, and my appetite to feed them. Beneath their torn gaze, a child cries a melody for greed and for me, for those that move their eyes away, stroll on by with a numb gait.

Oh! When? When will we fix this? When will language wed with deeds and not mistake our shame for duty, our love for anguish, charity as work?

The child’s sleeve, wet with phlegm, hangs low like the air around me. It drips like apathy, our loveless dreams upon our useless critique, it bends my spirit into awful shapes, a depraved clown twisting balloons into phantoms made of loathing, shaped from the least of man.

I watch them leave. They limp away from the curb and take refuge on the sidewalk and wander to the next revolting corner of despair. The child stares back at me like death, …

Dis-ease… (The 24th September Song)

"Cowboys and Indians the Great Diversion"
via Crooks and Liars

Signs strapped with dis-ease drape the landscape. Dreadful songs printed upon their faces, uneasy eyes scanning across them.

Hard to stay clean. Hard to lift the mind under such filth. Hard to imagine a battle that hasn't just begun, a battle that’s been going on for such a long time, before mankind’s bodies were unfolded, before time tumbled from out of the mist, a breath that lifted us within the garden, the place we should have stayed.

© 2010 by mark prime

Peace... Love... Silence...

The Walk I'm On (23rd September Song)

I find myself happily walking upon the vanishing soil without vibration or collapse. I’ve been here before, near this moment, nearer the sun, a journey I chose to make upon the blinding road, a journey I’ll gladly take again.

Hope is a coffin filled with time, a life filled with tombs.

Many children, mothers and fathers look like bundles of dust settling their debt, coming to rest beneath mountains (a respite from the noise) their hands moving in fervent prayer, as if the wind were a reminder of truth, the sun, a machine to craft reflection.

Is this what I call punishment for living like a bitter leaf, an arthritic mind that can’t remember why they’re here, or is this the defeat of a hunger closely dreamt, detached by the wickedness found in misery?

I’ve been here before next to these words, nearer the sun, a voyage I desire come again, a walk upon the blinding road, a pathway engraved in souls.

© 2010 by mark prime

Unspeakable Goodness (The 22nd September Song)

And a great multitude growls upon the soil and the world reaches back to find mortality cursing man’s fall from grace and goodness, his forgetfulness and indifference.

The world shivers of man’s awareness and weeps for him to remember, to recall his place his worship, his communal beginnings in the garden.

We seek out the most unspeakable and rouse our tired faces with shrieking. When might we begin to don the smile of laughter’s journey, at which reflection will our happiness surface, our joy for what we contain and not what we might purchase with the cradle of our misery?

Now is the time for us to speak. Now is the time for us to love. Now is the time for us to live. Now is the time for us to remember.

All the kinsmen, all the lovers, all the warriors and peacemakers, all the striding youth, it is time to take your place in the valley.

© 2010 by mark prime

Going Hungry in the 21st Century

The Call of the Wild and the Free (The 21st September Song)

I tried to hide myself in there wasn’t room under stars, I mounted the sky, but fell below instead, no sanctuary within.

Believe in man, though he’s dying.

I see an orange streak of failing light, a star flung across the heavens, the growling tummy held hostage, emptiness writing a ransom note.

Believe in man! Raise him up!

Peace walks the land without legs, war strides without joy, one moves minus hope, the other, flesh to let slip our struggle.

I smile upon another and pray to remember.

Do the thinning ranks fall short of the seed, the kindness imbued in all things? Might I recall the love I’ve missed or the goodness lodged inside me like a map?

I dance on the ground, pray upon the air.

Allow me to honor you, to put bread to your lips, my mind to climb the truth of a shared seed, those that are hungry, those fed.


They are waiting for me to choose.

© 2010 by mark prime

The Horde (The 20th September Song)

World Hunger Is Not for Sale
Here in this country, this world, that gathers in the streets and chants with dream-filled tongue, rivers of our hunger-honed devotion speak of lifting our love where children are dying of greed as they search for our hands, there under the bridges, here on the streets, bowing in decline, our decay, greed and agony hemorrhaging deep in our nature

© 2010 by mark prime


Sharing Strength (The 19th September Song)

In the United States, 1 out of 6 children faces hunger, children of all ages and all races.  Hunger in America is a difficult issue because it's often invisible.

They’re seen more clearly at night, rising in the glow of neon to dig in filthy cans for a meal so they can see the sunrise another day.

They’re behind the doors I dare not pierce, doors that open out, a sour noise behind them, the stench of dismissal.

Like the moon, they fill the landscape- naked, hungry, moaning, with hands raised in class, with eyes burning new trails, all just beneath my radar, my senses numb from the deluge of self.

They are there. They are reaching out to me. They are calling to me in the fog, saying goodbye to all of this, wishing it would stay a while longer.

Years after the last has disappeared, the moon and the sun will remain as a sort of testimony, but what of humankind? What will be here as evidence of goodness? Will there be signs that I tried to stem the tide of loss, will future occupiers o…