The silence grew, the issue lay hid, no one spoke for a dying child. —– Each click of the fingers, each moment in time, they die of hunger, violence or harm, abused and broken, sexually mauled and their tears don’t make headlines while a fantasy does. —– Narcissistic natures boldly claim the front of every… Continue reading The burning heart
Tag: war
War is Death.
Appalled and angry he stares after the lifting fuselage. By his side his children sit in the dirt, with the whiff of kerosene in their nostrils and their weeping mother trying to make sense of the inexplicable losses. —— Firing weapons raise smoke to sun kissed skies, now nowhere will be safe from their anger… Continue reading War is Death.
The Trenches
Mud like superglue, makes battle grim, mountains of slimed clothes, never clean, boots feel like leaden weights and the humble sandwich tastes like dirt. — The sweet face of a friend sinks down, leaving the grief to to fight and show that this hell is more than enough, and bitterness bloats the corpse. —- Precious… Continue reading The Trenches
Do they even care?
Sewage on our beaches government beyond our reaches, history did not teach us and now they cling like leeches, —- feeding off the poor, slamming shut the door, hunger comes with a roar and they say they’re sticking to the law. — Crisis costs will rise, Will they hear the dying sighs? Will they finally… Continue reading Do they even care?
A voice in the Wilderness of War
Still he opened his throstle, and chanted
his prayer, that despair will die and each
root of hopefulness will bring grace
War on Refugees
Now politicians think up wicked schemes and plot
to send them to countries violating human rights,
spending our money to perpetrate crimes against
humanity, binding them in chains and sending them
away to suffer more, be killed and so Pilate Patel
washes her hands.
Palms or Arms
He boldly went on a bewildered donkey, batting the flies as they settled to feed on both their faces. The long ears of the ass twitching and both hearts fast beating as the crowds around cried,”Hosanna!” — The strewed garments grimy and torn by flocks of people waving branches, claiming the humble man as their… Continue reading Palms or Arms
Prayer on the Front Line.
I pray for Ukraine, that each blade of grass, flowers, bees and beetles, birds and butterflies . —- I pray for their protection against the avalanche of violence and vile destruction. —– I pray for each small child, girl or boy, their school, hospital, park and their climbing tree. ——- I pray for their safety,… Continue reading Prayer on the Front Line.
Ukraine and Evil
She stepped over the grim reminder that somewhere, someone wants her dead, harried, frightened, threatened, fastened to her people by a thread of vile, red evil that looks to reject what was not perfect – but was the way they lived, and gave of their best for their nation and now they ration their food… Continue reading Ukraine and Evil
A Cracked Pot
The pottery wheel brings the writhing clay to life, its whirring pulses through the hands, moulding the sticky gooey mess, growing its potential and finding its nature through touching, loving and caressing the dirty lump until it reveals its hidden glory. — Steadily the rhythm grows and a shape is formed, a vessel glad to… Continue reading A Cracked Pot