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This morning's story of a particular style of drawing attention to a tragedy, was indeed an even greater tragedy, given the media's blood lust for anything that will garner eyeballs to the printed page. Herein is an editorial/prosetry rendering of conscience... at least for those who deem themselves conscious.
A bird's wing will flap
Until it can't
A road will survive with patches
Until it can't
A bridge will carry in spite of cracks
Until it can't
The heart can survive desolation
It has to know how
What power inspires mind over matter?
What drives the engine of resolve?
With rain rich clouds
Earth's abundance knows of harvest
Even with emotional acuity
Man's essence can succumb to the heart's drought
Might we heal this plague
This duplicity of action
This fraudulent manipulation with words
This denial that wounds are open
Allowing infection to spread
Not even tomorrow's Apple product
Can provide the next change of dressing
The shielding of inexorable viscous fluids of hate
These all white blood cells of mind's cellular debris,
This necrotic tissue of what was once the heart
Now pumping polluted hope
Coagulating sentient struggle into lesions of discharge
Providing nourishment for Exudativores
While a starving and famished morality
Staggers across a dust bowl of impoverishment
Needing less parental business models
Less religiosity mocking secular common sense
Needing even less of modern man's material cure all
There exists living frailty in search of answers
Some additional honest spirit of heart and mind
Can overcome the airborne pollutants of empty words
Commerce determined to heal not the needy
But enslave minions
One can hope
But as healing continues to grow by proxy
By dint of A.I.
Will shiny products in hand
Forever replace the ability to reach down
Pick up the bird whose wing is in need
And provide a healing only the heart can insure?
MIght Madonna be listening?
Is a strip tease an appropriate dedication to hope
For a critically wounded 14 year old?
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|Reviewed by Diana Legun (Reader)
|Now that I am available to read entries of yesterdays, I find this one of yours to be applicable and appropriate. The "Perhaps" and "One can hope" segments are words I'd love to hear said during tonight's Presidential debate....by someone. Those two stanzas (albeit all of this writing) are spot on. ~~ Diana|
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|I refuse to believe that things are worse now than they ever were before. It's just that we received information worldwide at set speed that we are overwhelmed sometimes like Alvin Toffler predicted in Future Shock. I think that all of the devices out there are having a tremendous human leveling effect that tends to scare people as they age because they do not realize that a world without extreme stratification can work. The mere fact that we know about critically wounded 14-year-olds is a step forward.
|Reviewed by richard cederberg
|The first four images are moving examples that set the tone for your development of thought. With such an engulfing write of the heartbreak of seeing such devolution in all aspects of life, I can imagine the writer must be drawn regularly to help the downtrodden. It starts with one hand extended to another in need. This plague, and duplicity of action, you mention, will never be healed with words, or any procurator, or by philosophers watching television. Altruism, real wisdom, honor, justice, and God's hand of love extended is whats needed in this world; and all of them in abundance. The world is deluged and diseased with Eros but there is little Agape, and most care naught for their fellow man except for what they can finagle from him.|
|Reviewed by Mr. Ed
|One can only hope that hearts can rise again.|