Gun Violence & Other Madness

The cat chases its tail, the dog whimpers in sleep,

The heart skips a beat…

It’s not a nightmare, not a movie, a TV show.

 

Wake when you will, but where will you be, in bed alone,

In the den, your unknowing hand holding a gun,

At your desk starting at nothing?

 

It doesn’t matter—Looking deeply matters:

Unless you turn it inside out, look long at what you find

The mind eludes the eye of reason.


Recall the flowers of betrayal and delusion with merciful disregard,

Struggle all your life to save this dying thing

This beaten, bloody thing called love.

 

For the tail is chasing the dog,

The cat is barking in sleep, the heart is cracking

Hope is a Gypsy song rising over the ash of Auschwitz

 

Mad men rule the world—


And if they wake from a coma of hate, will they give a vision truth?

Will they feed the poor, give up peace?

When will your heart slow to a murmur and hiss into silence?

 

I want to say the cat is calm, the dog is happy, humankind is wise and kind,

But the cat is gnawing the cage, the dog is humming a dirge,
The good flower columbine was never a flock of doves:

 

Littleton, Kosovo, Dachau, Wooded Knee, Kabul, Santa Fe, El Paso:

Large extensions of the fist we use to abuse the children—

Where next the murder of the day, massacre of the week, 

Where next the World War?

The heart is failing, the heart is failing, there are no known donors.

 

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The Tree

Buddha before enlightenment starved bony looking in the moment for a way out
the joy and pain the universal law at the center in the chaos in and around him
 

knowing we all wait under a spreading tree

the return of turtles setting eggs in sand

salmon roiling upriver to spawn

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sea lions   fleeing the orca 

And human life – cirriped on the fin of a whale 

ephemeral song in the ocean of space-time 

 

Glint on a globe severed head on sand bright knife blood on a terrorist’s hand– we know not when but live for one instant, Enlightenment–  

Love pales in comparison under a bodhi tree.     

 

 

The-Tree-of-Life   

The Lifeguard

Donald was just beyond the breakers
when I saw him in trouble
struggling to stay above the water,
I was swimming to the rescue
when not a hundred feet
before I reached him, a huge grey fin
parted the water…
 

he went under, the sea turned red, a seal got tossed

up into the air by a great white
that swam away munching–
Donald came up
“Help, help me!”, he cried, “Help!”
the real horror was, I had to think twice.

 

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Commentary… on World Poetry Day 2019

Commentary

A war of attrition continues with death
a spy walking behind
a sense it follows a breath after the next
a shadow stretching back
to birth a battle cry,
today we win the war we lose tomorrow.

 

One can for a pocket full of policies
lose entire families—
hell is the inability to love.
We inch to the edge endangered species
wanting more than we need
computers phones gold homes cars
more animal than beasts
the corporate czar global leaders
give a harvest of grief
the Killing Fields, Rwanda, Darfur
Bosnia, East Timor,
how many holocausts before they cease—
Hell is an absence of love
in people who bend to hate and greed.

 

Death is the maker of creeds and men
withering away in the end
when hymns of eternal rest and peace
pour out into the air
like smoke over Syria
heaven betrayed by hells we made on earth.

~Rayn Roberts

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World Poetry Day was declared by UNESCO in 1999. Each year, UNESCO meets and focuses on some particular poet and his or her works. Often, the spotlight is cast on poetry written in a minority or even rare and endangered language. Poetry recitals and similar events may also be held in various countries in recognition of the day.

Schools may have special poetry writing sessions or even contests, poets may be invited to recite their works in local cafes, and exhibits may put famous or new, local written poetic creations on display.

While World Poetry Day is on 21 March, it used to be in October, and some countries still observe it then.

 

Poetry, Etc.

 

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Poetry etc is a blog by Rayn Roberts providing info on one of the longest running poetry readings in Seattle: 2nd Saturday from 4 to 5:30 pm at Green Lake Public Library.  It features 2 poets and an open mic.  Depending on time and the number of readers, you can usually share one or two poems in the open mic.  Sometimes there’s time for two or three, but not too often.  It’s popular.  Children must be accompanied by an adult. The content of the poems isn’t always appropriate for kids.  Rayn Roberts hosted the reading for two years as a member of PoetsWest.  Poet, David Post, is the current host.  He’s an excellent poet and doing a fine job of hosting.
Question Everything.
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