Tag: war
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The Angel in the Flak Jacket
The Angel stood tall, the flak jacket contrasting carefully his glowing, golden skin. A man caressed his clattering, carnage making machine gun, ——– a tear crept from the corner of his eye and slowly slid down his cheek. While the soldier considered the hungry endangered crowds for another kill. —– The child lay at the…
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Crisis
I waken, crying, for the Middle East eruption, corruption, for the Russian occupation of a sovereign nation for women and children fleeing before raping soldiers, desperately seeking food, shelter, safekeeping. -=-=- I watch the news with sinking feelings, leads to kneeling and crying out they’re stealing the lives of children, breaking promises, torturing prisoners, hostages…
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The Healing Poet?
(Inspired by R S Thomas) Dipping his head the poet drank from the depths of his soul, there in his woundedness lay memories of such pain, Remember me they cry, we can wound again, write us out, share our bane. ——– Still, he wrote, and I’ve heard, a despair sore, poems written, stored,…
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The Mirror
I looked, she looked back at me, turned old, I said, the lines show pain and loss, grave furrows around the eyes. Compassion always for the poor, prayer through the night to end the war, yet I look and get no empathy. Criticism, in plenty.
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The hauntings
Lord, where is hope? I am haunted by the pictures, of children, broken bodies, stumps where legs have been, — Lord where is hope? I am haunted by the bombs, shootings and drones. How can they aim them at human beings? — Lord where is hope? I am haunted by the parents on Bluesky asking…
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Christmas 2024
The cold is slowing our brains as we sit in unheated homes the dirty water in our mains, and still bitter Covid roams. — Children wanting this and that, poor parents pulled into a trap, Grandparents only affording tat, and still the prices – where’s the cap? — There’s a Christmas sparkly Fairy, and lights…
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Decency can be like morning mist, warmed by the sun of greed, may lightly flow away in greying drifts, or veiled by evil’s, darkened day. — Compassion is like the rocky cliffs, ever being pressed and smashed by the increasing anger of the sea of hearts, encased in ego’s stone.
graceatthemargins 