While Waiting for a Sweet Face

Boneyard Brand  ~ Philip Brent

While club and maul and stick and mace
May prove efficient when you smash a face
They all require study, practice and intent
Maim or murder is always what you meant

While the spear and stone and the arblast
Increased killing distance, but weren’t fast
Designed to kill prey, as dangerous as you
Seems to have worked for more than a few

With horses, armor, siege tower, trebuchet
We could now war each year and each day
While the kings, princes, clerics and fools
Told us they would determined all the rules

As smooth-bore muskets soldiers adorned
So many a mother their lost sons mourned
While power, money grappled to grab more
Poor people, as always, stay poor, as before

Killing too slow, rifles and cannons are made
Based behind the battles, the powerful stayed
While a poor soldier’s life keeps a belly filled
With luck, you won’t be shot, maimed, killed

While young men, now women, ordered to die
Mighty tanks, ships shatter, bombs from the sky
Monstrous moguls, in castles, hide behind walls
Like a stalk scythed in a swathe, any soldier falls

If this were not enough, it’s grown out of hand
While folks who might have led us, let it expand
They’ve bowed before mammon, the gun lobby
Like being in our government less than a hobby

Were all the smart, ethical people killed in a war
It is so hard to explain how we got where we are
While but a third of the people own all the guns
Three hundred million; it is not hard to get one

Whether a child or an adult, a criminal or crazy
If you cannot grab a gun, you are stupid or lazy
While we act out our anger, hatred and bigotry
We leave tears, blood, sorrow like a wake on sea

You blame others for your plight and all your ills
So insecure, to the haters you sacrifice your wills
While corrupt politicians and those who play god
Fan the flames of your terror; you smile and nod

While those flames burn higher, hotter, my dears
You praise fools because they nurture your fears
Perhaps you will fire your guns wildly into the air
Where the bullets land you neither know nor care

So many pistols, assault weapons, we cannot wait
Yet grand old political puppets posture and prate
While every day random people continue to die
Whether targets or victims, you can only ask why

If it is a little child, parent, cop killer or killer cop
Why cannot you see that this madness must stop
While voices in the wilderness to sense do appeal
It is time; we each became our own Howard Beale

Become mad as hell, say we won’t take any more
Put leader’s toes to a fire, what the hell’re they for
Change our culture of violence, murder and blood
While, I imagine, it’s time for another world flood

What past-life, passion or paranoia can’t we let go
Religion, inbreeding, or stupidity, I’d like to know
Simply so short-sighted, we cannot look past today
While the future might fail, we’ll kill and we’ll play

No matter which weapon, what place or what time
We cannot control our cunning; we clash to climb
While most are kept ignorant; I think it’s by design
I mean, if educated, you may then steal what’s mine

While I am waiting for sanity to show its sweet face
I must admit to despairing for the whole human race
Our sad, battered, beautiful world, spinning in space
And all of the life that we are trying so hard to erase

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