Cry, The Beloved Country

for John and Karen and Scott

I. Corruption

The earth quakes with fear—
as lava pours out like thick blood
only to make more…


II. Poverty

A cavernous cavity:
A canyon—
cut by the river of need.
Slowly carving deeper
into the psyche—
into the large, dark continent
of the mind.


III. Disease

A jungle of twisted fate—
venomous snakes
striking at the children’s heels.


IV. War

The mountains
jut out of the plains—
tectonic plates
of clashing cultures.


V. Famine

A barren dessert—
of dust to dust.


VI. Postlude

Cry, the beloved country—
but laughter is beneath the veil
of all creation—
as when the sun rises, and lifting the sorrow,
light dances in the canyons and the jungles,
on the mountains and in the desserts.

Peace & Quiet

It is not the washed pot—
But the single bead of water
holding like a silent monk,
in stillness, upon the rim
of its known world.

I Am

The plurality in the singular—
like when they split the atom
or was it Adam?

God’s Timeless Time

To consider God’s timeless time—
We’re only left with God’s and less:
No past, present, or future,
No first or later,
No here or there,
No after or before,
Simply infinite Is.

Infamy

I. December 7th 1941

Alarms.
Chaos.

Terror.
7:48am is too early to say goodnight.

Oklahoma, California, Nevada, Utah,
West Virginia, and Arizona: goodnight.

Sailors scurry like rabbits
As the hawks fly above –

Screeching engines
Flashing talons—

Nurses marking men with an M
on their forehead.

But pain can be held at bay
only so long—

II. August 6th & 9th 1945

So our falconers ready themselves
over the shores of Hiroshima and Nagasaki --

Jesses released — and we mark the forehead
of the human race with another indelible scar.

Jesus The Economist

after John 2:12-16—for skye

No one suspected the market to crash—
all the analysts were content
(and you have to follow the analysts).
No one suspected it was a black market
(seemed legal enough and it made sense).
Besides, the incense covered the smell of manure –
that is until the incensed prophet entered.
With limpid eyes he beheld the scene
and the crazed rabbi—whip-wielding and mad
went straight for the jugular—
But what’s crazier—the God-Man on fire
or the politics of the status quo?

Man Versus Nature

Great wings of nature’s flame take flight—
With rising roar: spit from the belly of the beast –
All is lit with flickering light.
Who deserves revenge so rash?
As fauna flee, the man will fight!
Sends sounds of snapping, whistle, crack—
Back at this warrior in his sight.
Nature pilfers, whips and wounds;
Shielded man resolves to strike –
As soars the burden to new height,
This mangled man with hand in sand,
Cries out last words, “it is not right.”
And dust to dust goes sand and man,
And nature’s flame did plight one’s troth
In death of man whose might was lost.

The Moon

Between us—
I would much rather
The day end as the comma
Than as the opalescent period