My god,
How beautiful.
To think that everything
may once have had
a fighting chance.
How terribly devastating-
that someone will come to a memorial
to kill, to kill and be killed.
That history is blown to shards,
and people of one earth bomb each other-
at weddings,
at funerals,
at school,
in the night.
Parents who leave children,
without rhyme, reason, or a word.
They who take the body of another
for their own selfish means,
those who smile as someone else is torn apart,
those who stand by,
in the blood of their nation,
in the blood of their friend.
The ones who do nothing,
the ones who lie,
the ones who introduce strange chemicals to their flesh,
to escape reality,
while their fantasy destroys them.
The ones who burn their own bodies,
draw their own blood,
take their own lives.
Who teach their children,
their progeny,
to hate others:
for god,
for land,
for race,
for color-
and give rise to the saying:
"There will be peace here,-
when they love their children
more than they hate us."
God damn those who glorify in death;
destruction.
There is nothing beautiful there,
a desolate wasteland
of mankind's creation,
a vacuum,
like a hole in the heart,
without a second chance.
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it doesn't feel like a poem, it lacks both rhythm and rhyme, and although poetry does not require the latter, i think it at the very least requires the former. i comment on the idea under the explanation.
ReplyDeleteIt works with how I think and speak(fit the rhythm of how I speak as well as my diction), and feel.
ReplyDeletePOEM
–noun 1. a composition in verse, esp. one that is characterized by a highly developed artistic form and by the use of heightened language and rhythm to express an intensely imaginative interpretation of the subject.
2. composition that, though not in verse, is characterized by great beauty of language or expression: a prose poem from the Scriptures; a symphonic poem.
3. something having qualities that are suggestive of or likened to those of poetry: Marcel, that chicken cacciatore was an absolute poem.
the first definition involved rhythm, the last should be left out, and the middle refers to it as prose. yours isn't prose unless you get rid of spacing... i think. at least thats what i understand of prose.
ReplyDeletemy word verification for that comment was "syngishi". i just thought it was a funny word and felt like sharing.
ReplyDeleteI like it as a poem ;) It really speaks to me
ReplyDelete