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Click hereSwallow your water,
drink up your wine,
turn that TV on believe
it's just fine
if you've got a blind eye,
and sleep through the truth.
They’re all so polite,
so couth snarky smiling
like miles of sharks
rising through tides of lost souls
lining streets, bumming cigarettes,
or caught on some distant sand
with only a helmet and gun
to protect from the hand
of someone's god.
Inside the hearing room
water's fresh iced;
niceties belie the knives
in smoothie passion sweet
as saccharine.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousabout 20 years agoWhat planet is YDD from?Politics from ANY side lead to innocent lives being lost.It is up to everyone of conscience to protest whether they are poet or peasant.This poem says it all.
YDDabout 20 years agoPoitics and poetry
As always you have some marvelous phrases.
From this one I would choose:
"or caught on some distant sand
with only a helmet and gun
to protect from the hand
of someone's god. "
However, I tend to find almost all poet voices weakened when the speak to poetic polemics.
Politics from either side costs one half of an audience at best.
The poet has a right to write and point out the wrong; some would claim a duty. But beware, it is a seductive and dangerous right.
Muse does not like invective.
A first step can be hard to take back.
jthserraabout 20 years agopowerful commentary here. A bloody rhetoric is spoken there, where somewhere else that blood is spilled. The politics of war is so couth, polite for those not dying. This poem looks beyond the sparkling glass of ice water, the educated diction of positions and swing, and pierces the heart of the matter.
jim : )
