Chant of Yesterdays Requiem
Sewn into the seams of the wind
I hear the screaming sound of betrayal,
it rings like a requiem
a cross between a plea for mercy
and a schoolmasters scolding.
The intonations are all too familiar,
they have been cried before
all too many times last times before.
Anger saturates my mind
like used car ads fill the Sunday classifieds,
I remember the promises that were once made-
the assurances that were once given-
the prophecies proclaimed by the wisest of wise
who said this would never happen again.
Yes, they snickered
crossing their fingers behind their backs,
there will still be madmen
and there will still be the tyrants and despots
who will climb upon their thrones
and masturbate their power
but it was assured and promised
that a vaccine to the insanity of war
had been found and administered to all.
This kind of thing that I fear,
they told me,
would never happen again.
So what is wrong, I ask;
pointing to the horizon
that is filled once again with a wind
that carries the smell of death,
the smell of war,
the smell of promises ignored.
the sounds vomited by lunatics of domination
surge up from the bowels of the gutter
to infect throngs of innocent and ignorant,
despots and dictators
and people of hate
immune to the inoculations
and morals of humanity
call attention to the differences of man
and demand extinction of those deemed the other kind
all in the name of a common and greater good.
a race of people
stand on the plank of extinction
as the world goes on with its business
too busy and self focused
to lift a finger of concern.
The war drums beat
weapons are made ready
and our children are lined up
and made ready
to march off, once again,
to die in the name of war.