a parting thought…

copyright cwmartin 2011

you
are staring
into the mirror
as if it
can change
your fate
it
has no power
only
in fairy tales
does it transform
the grotesque gourd
of life
into a magical carriage
holding
your glass slippers
this world
requires that
you
take up arms
against ignorance
and
crawl through
the narrow passageways
lined
with razor wire prejudices
to reach
a tomorrow
defined
only
by
you

you needn’t worry…

copyright cwmartin 2011

it will not
change
your day
if another child
dies today
it will not
change
your day
when a child
is raped
or
sold as a slave
no
it will not
change
your day
if you do
nothing
but
your soul
shall
change

at the cock’s crow…

rise
reach up
and grasp
what has been denied
listen no longer
to the voices
and
words
of those
who would
mire you
in the soft mud
of tradition
tradition
that always dries
into the concrete
of human bondage
binding your feet
and soul
into a harsh world
that should have died
long ago
but has endured
because of ignorance
and
brutality
rise now
reach up
and grasp
the knowledge
long denied
and defy
the carnage
of men
and hold tight
to the hand
of
saraswati

the dog run…

 

Copyright 2006 The New York Times Company

she
a child bride
was chained
to his
expectations
but
was
quite free
to run along
a set path
at whatever pace
she chose
and
could make
the trip
back-and-forth
to sanity
as often
as she
wanted
this was
what
he
defined
as
freedom

a public service annoucement…

modified google image

the following poem
contains graphic
references to
children
being abused
and
dying
because of neglect
you may
wish to
turn away
or surf over to
the three-hour
results show of
dancing
with the stars
or
any one
of a number
of mind-numbing programs
but
the children
will still be there
waiting in full view
just outside your door
so it is recommended
that you stay
indoors
for the duration
it shouldn’t
be too long
since
they’re
already
starving

child bride…

Copyright 2006 The New York Times Company

stench
of fresh vomit
and
day old whiskey
pressed hard
against her face
flesh
smelling
like rancid meat
covered hers
she
pleading
to whatever gods
there may be
for
death

silenced…

digital decoupage cwmartin 2011

each night
he awoke her
demanding she
silence the cries
of their daughter
she would rise
but recalled
no such complaints
about their son
one night
he rose
without a word
the child
she never
heard
again

evil continually…

digital decoupage cwmartin

and it came
to pass
that every girl-child
of the world’s poor
was gathered up
and brought before
each male judge
of society’s court
and
having found
them guilty
of wanting
equality
they were sentenced
to death
and so it was
that a mass grave
of servitude
and
ignorance
was dug
and each child
was placed within
and covered
with layers
of rejection
dominance
and brutality
until
they
died
giving birth
to
a male
child