Because We Have Not Stopped A Poet’s Words with Poets’ Words

A dichotomy of dark and light where the colors seem unable to meet, though uA dichotomy of dark and light where the colors seem unable to meet, though ultimately they are all the same.

                        Dangling Conversation ~ Philip Brent Harris

When many commit cruel murder, macho maniacs brutally rape, mad hermits dream and decimate,
Then, will we need to know where the sidewalk ends, where a phenomenal woman’s secrets lie?
While daily tribunes trumpet madness, feasts of destruction, humanity the savage, ravenous beast,
Will it matter if we take the road less traveled,if we pray, to what earth does this sweet cold belong?
In the long sleepless watches of the night do we whisper we are too young, we are too old?
We who court peace, do sorrow and despair; have we come too far upon this dark and lonely road?
Will we hopeless languish out our days that end this strange eventful history, sans everything?
If we speak write of hope, transformation, we’re labeled sanctimonious preachers, fools worshiping.
Learned men brand humans blind, rapacious in our endless quest to replicate our worst and our best.
Is all we see and seem just a dream within a dream, in spite of war, death, in spite of all sufferings?
Cannot we reason, choose, grow, transfigure, to let strength of numbers overwhelm strength of arms?
Be angry with our friends, yet tell our wrath and have our wrath end, so live both wise and simply?
Will we be angry with our foes, hold our wrath, watch it grow, as the moment our greatness flickers?
Too weak, too timid to call for metamorphosis, afraid someone will shoot us down or, shoot us.
Will they write us down in history with their bitter, twisted lies, politic, cautious, and meticulous?
Will they expose our deepest, darkest secrets buried down inside, sacred silent places where we hide?
Will we glory in our differences, fire guns in lust for blood, without thought to our universal bonds,
See a falling tear, not feel sorrow’s share, leave tracks full of warm blood leading toward the night?
Addicted to power, greed, hatred, fear, death; in blood we write our future, etched behind our eyes.
We don’t carry our hearts within us,:new meaning cleaves to rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Because we have not stopped for death, it will surely stop for us; oh yes, we thought it looked familiar.
All conflict will not cease, nor do we think it should, but we must box and put away the toys of war.
Can we not teach ourselves all this is folly, for want and hunger have hardened all this loveless land?
Sad we’re too weak to learn, we must forever sing our songs of hope and love, until we understand.

Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength,  Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment

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