the book of dying 1:3…

as children died women cried out
these are children born from us
god charged us protect each one
but your greed sears their flesh

 

 

 

 

 

 

behold..children are a heritage from the lord…

don’t matter
which
good book
you read
quran
bible
or
whatever
spiritual star chart
you follow
the charge
to
all adults
is
to protect children
from
moral
and
physical harm
don’t
say nothing
about
only the white ones
so
i suspect
brown
black
and
all the colors
in
between
are
included
yet
everyday
i read about
how
children
are victimized
in
wars
or
how
so-called
civilized nations
caged
children like dogs
along
the border
and
at birth
how
children of color
die
more frequently
than their
white
counterparts
oh
there’s
far
too many
homeless
and
hungry
children to count
perhaps
our leaders
share
the notion
that
children of color
are just
useless eaters
as
i recall
that was the same
dogma
that
the nazis
subscribed to
wonder where
the
new mass graves
for
children will be

 

having lost my voice…

what prayers
should
be said
to wash away
the
blood stains
from
a child’s clothes
and
will those same prayers
breathe life
into
lifeless forms
forms
broken
from
life’s mosaic
by
brutal blows
from
human greed
a greed
making
void
prayers
that
a child
once again
can
feel
a parent’s touch
and
giggle with joy
over
simple songs
sung
as
night
embraces
consciousnesses
what
celestial words
will be heard
by
the gods
to end
these
nightmares
called
war

 

ain’t nobody here but us chickens….

world
democracy
ain’t nothing
but
a chicken
with
it’s head cut off
without
strong
humanitarian leadership
flip
flopping
around
spilling
children’s blood
all
over the ground
and
mighty nations
don’t
make a peep
about
the carnage
since
they’re
looking forward
to
greed’s
feast
carelessly
made
with
cunning
bloodied hands
from
selling weapons
to
both
warring parties
you
might
rightly call
those
nations
chicken pluckers
for
as the earth
is plunged
into
the boiling water
of
climate change
they’re
busy
pulling
earth’s resource feathers
off
to stuff
their pillows
with
dollars
but
one day soon
no one
is
going to have
a place
to
sleep

 

denial of climate change…

 

i’ve
begun
to wonder
if
blindness
is acquired
after living
in
the light
too
long
the question
was
perhaps
engendered by
all
the dark days
with
rain
we’ve
been having
i’ve noticed
how
even
the slightest
ray
of
sunlight
can become
overwhelming
when
one’s eyes
have
become
accustomed
to
the darkness
and
how
the sound
of
rain
like the voices
of
dying children
soon
become
all too
familiar
how
small
pained faces
become
blurred
behind
a fog
of lies
and then
invisible
in the darkness
as
if
they don’t exist
i suppose
you could
call it
a blindness
of
sorts
or
just denial
after
a
brief period
of
true
democracy