not just in Syria
hit the internet news
another day's end, no surprise
out of habit, laid back's peruse
what a ruse
it doesn't end, doesn't stop
the heyday hellday no holiday
from the dawn of time since the fall
of mankind's war to this day
another day of play
war at home, in the family, in the heart
'til death do us part
war in towns no matter hemisphere
in the cities no matter latitude longitude
all earth creatures warlike attitude
across lone territories though out all nations
in the heart, in the mind and soul of man
what will it take to exorcise?
every creature wars on earth
insects, birds, mammals, fish
fight to kill and sport and eat
but man fights wars against self friend and foe
for other reasons, some are known
and some no one knows
quite how to stop
the biggest war is for riches untold
until there's nothing left
but the dead of war
if i could ask the earth,
if it could talk
it is after all a living organism itself
it breathes with air and heaves with tectonic plates
upon its face along with waters salt and fresh
supports all manner of sweet living things on her back
mother earth, appropriate name for this gorgeous sphere
apple of God's eye and mine
if i could ask mother earth,
if she would talk
in human language plain
to hear what she would understand,
"what is it you feel?"
she, i'm sure would groan
as she does each time from time to time
besides her quakes and weather wild,
a nuclear punch, a uranium bomb and other sorts
of vile violent weapons against her own
children, human, or animal killed, or murdered maimed
or stained with hateful senseless hurt
of war political religious or just plain hate
she would groan as does all creation,
at the evil deeds of man led by greed
and other vile ones . . .
to feel the need to raze conscience unfazed,
rain forests to the ground with no second glance
poisoned tainted radiation leaks
ground, underground, air, water's streams and oceans wide
smoke and ashes and dirt and desolation
like the surface of the moon
children of man inheritors that come
another world war the third how soon?
mother earth, she spins and revolves in splendor's beauty
clothed in frothing silken waves of white and foam
she moves with grace of clouds that veil her beauty
face of blue and white golden tans of brown and beige
green velvet forms of waving plains and forest hues
her sphere of form of arc and orb,
oh, so precious painted eye in black of space
turquoise blue of every hue
i'm sorry Mom for what's being done