Skip to main content

One, One Day


911...

No. Not one day.
Let us dedicate our lives to seeking truth.
Not one day for prayer and fasting.

Everyday those shrouded by buildings need emerge,
walk out into the sunlight and speak out against war,
against the poisoning of the water, soil, forest, and air,
against the destruction of Home and one another.

No. Not one day.

Confession is fine, but action is true prayer.
March on the streets and roads of the (H)eartH
I'll no longer participate in deceit, I’ll declare.

Let's take back the (H)eartH from corporate greed,
from those who fill their coffers with money instead of hope,
return the yield back to Creation's sovereign seed,
and remember, where we are is begging that we see.

No. Not one day, stolen by those with agendas.

No. Not one day, taken from the unwitting masses.

No. Not one day, remembering things designed to haunt.

No. Not one day collapsing in on its own footprint.

No. Not one day.

All days, everyday, praising our kinship and Home,
not separate or divided in the least,
but together, the collective of Love and Peace,
man, woman and child, one. Not one day, one.

One. See?

Peace and Love

© 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

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
........•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...

Waiting for It

Why do they stay there, between war and peace? Sky’s tapestry doles out guns, bombs and rocks while flesh and bone swim away from the ache yet live on as the food for the murder of peace. Why do we hide from the truth as if it were an ogre while death makes a home inside their living and war dispatches a raven to their door, smirking with the teeth of empire? Why do we wait, stooped for another wink? The sky’s drapery has tossed down ample clues, peace is breathing in harmony with war. (Road-maps are useless to blind leaders.) Why do they hold there, hunched in the gloom? Hatred’s bird cackling with bereavement needs end. Are we not rightly dishonored when we fill its trough with blood? © 2007 mrp/thepoetryman