Whipped up on July 22, 2016 -- I saw a post about US leading a strike in Syria a couple days ago that killed many innocent civilians, and I wrote this, because I think too much: (MAY REVISE OR ADD TO)
If I truly believe in a Heaven
Do I need to be the most right?
If there is a Heaven, and I know I am going to it,
Do I need to fight?
A kind of Calm.
A type of Kindness.
If I am afraid I am not going to Heaven,
Do I use my weapon?
If I believe I am going to Heaven,
Why do I need a weapon?
If I feel a need to defend others from harm,
Do I need a weapon?
If the people with weapons use them to harm others,
Do they believe in a Heaven?
If I use my weapon against those who use them to harm others,
Will I go to Heaven?
If I use my weapon to protect some while harming others,
Does this make me the most right?
If I truly believed in Peace,
Would I stop trying to be the most right?
If there is Peace, and I want to be a part of it,
Do I need to fight? Do I need to defend?
A kind of Calm.
A type of Kindness.
If I am afraid of not living in Peace,
Do I use my weapon?
If I believe in living in Peace,
Why do I need a weapon?
If I feel a need to keep Peace between others,
Do I need a weapon?
If I use my weapon against those who use theirs to harm others,
Am I creating Peace and stopping even others from using their weapons?
If I use my weapon,
Is that Peaceful?
Does this make me the most right?
written December 2015
if after art -
if after music -
if after reading, writing, crying -
if after feeling -
empathy
There is no other with whom to be present;
the air falls
the lungs suffocate
(and you may forget yourself)
and you were the tree in the woods
and you never loved.
"The Noxious Ones" - written April 18, 2014
The noxious ones marched across my eyelashes
Laughing eerily, thinking they had won.
When my tears at last came flowing,
All were drowned but one, who hung on by a pinky,
Dangling in front of my eye.
Since I could see it clearly,
I flicked him away with a vengeance.
His trajectory mirrored my rainbow,
But landed him in a pile of dirt,
Where a red ant picked him up
And marched him down the ant hole.
written somewhere around 2001
Skin upon skin
Brush my heart with fire.
Caught up in haste
Dreaming of eternity
And what lies within.
Make it so.
Else, where have we been?
“Oh Glorious Day” - written April 20, 2012
Oh glorious day.
OH GLOOOrious day.
When to breathe and cry and then breathe, again
Connect with a heartbeat,
And the air feels like the hug of an angel.
This is that day.
If I truly believe in a Heaven
Do I need to be the most right?
If there is a Heaven, and I know I am going to it,
Do I need to fight?
A kind of Calm.
A type of Kindness.
If I am afraid I am not going to Heaven,
Do I use my weapon?
If I believe I am going to Heaven,
Why do I need a weapon?
If I feel a need to defend others from harm,
Do I need a weapon?
If the people with weapons use them to harm others,
Do they believe in a Heaven?
If I use my weapon against those who use them to harm others,
Will I go to Heaven?
If I use my weapon to protect some while harming others,
Does this make me the most right?
If I truly believed in Peace,
Would I stop trying to be the most right?
If there is Peace, and I want to be a part of it,
Do I need to fight? Do I need to defend?
A kind of Calm.
A type of Kindness.
If I am afraid of not living in Peace,
Do I use my weapon?
If I believe in living in Peace,
Why do I need a weapon?
If I feel a need to keep Peace between others,
Do I need a weapon?
If I use my weapon against those who use theirs to harm others,
Am I creating Peace and stopping even others from using their weapons?
If I use my weapon,
Is that Peaceful?
Does this make me the most right?
written December 2015
if after art -
if after music -
if after reading, writing, crying -
if after feeling -
empathy
There is no other with whom to be present;
the air falls
the lungs suffocate
(and you may forget yourself)
and you were the tree in the woods
and you never loved.
"The Noxious Ones" - written April 18, 2014
The noxious ones marched across my eyelashes
Laughing eerily, thinking they had won.
When my tears at last came flowing,
All were drowned but one, who hung on by a pinky,
Dangling in front of my eye.
Since I could see it clearly,
I flicked him away with a vengeance.
His trajectory mirrored my rainbow,
But landed him in a pile of dirt,
Where a red ant picked him up
And marched him down the ant hole.
written somewhere around 2001
Skin upon skin
Brush my heart with fire.
Caught up in haste
Dreaming of eternity
And what lies within.
Make it so.
Else, where have we been?
“Oh Glorious Day” - written April 20, 2012
Oh glorious day.
OH GLOOOrious day.
When to breathe and cry and then breathe, again
Connect with a heartbeat,
And the air feels like the hug of an angel.
This is that day.
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