We should bury them together, two to a grave.

by Harry Ally

You were a beautiful animal

And you had been running across an overgrown field

Your muscles turned like a ceiling fan while you ran

And this patted down the sound of being alive

I told you that today was Ho Chi Minh's birthday

And I served you coffee, Vietnamese style

It slowly dripped onto the condensed cream

Coffee is a friend with a golden soul and a hand to hold

It was a beautiful day in May, cool, and the air was clean

As we sipped the coffee I watched your long paws

One of them was scratching at the ground

If I concentrate now I can still hear that scratching sound

Then you ran again, finally disappearing from sight

When you cleared a rise at the far side of the field

--

Death is king in the world of men

There are many fountains that flow with wine

But you must sacrifice a finger every time you drink

There is great wealth to be had

But only if you learn to smile

When another child is tossed into the fire

And friend, that fire is always burning

In the world of men there is a Senate also

And the Senators have shotguns, crossbows

And automatic rifles. The good news is

They will give you a little bit of a head start

The bad news is, you can't escape the hunt

Not ever 

You see

In the world of men we are all hunted

In the world of men we are all prey

Death is king here, and by god

Don't you ever forget it

--

All life is sacred, all of creation

May we live in reverence

--

We are defeated

From over the ocean the warplanes return

Like dragonflies flying over a fishpond

The stars above them hum and whisper in diamond light

The world is a whirlpool of churning thought

We are defeated, indeed, both sides are defeated

No one really wins a war

The graves of the innocent villagers are shallow and hard

The broken arm of the night will not mend

And the soldiers know this

Some of the soldiers sleep in sleek caskets

We should bury them together, two to a grave

One American, one Afghani

They could rest forever in each others arms.

--

poems by James Lee Jobe 

Peace is every step. It turns the endless path to joy.

Thich Nhat Hanh

--

Wanting one good organic line,

I wrote a thousand sonnets. 

Sam Hammill

--

Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.

John Lennon 

I Found Out, John Lennon

LINKS:

Sun Ra Ethos, a poem by Voice Porter

Someday, Again, a poem by Jason Bayani

Pease help support this blog with a small donation on the BUY ME A COFFEE link below. Every little bit helps! Thanks, James