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Thursday, November 6, 2014


Don’t tell me the war-dead are heroes!
Wars are dramatic times –
our friends, our relatives,
dying to help save our country.
We put the dead on pedestals,
and call them heroes.
It makes us feel good –
it justifies our deeds.
When men kill and are killed
in blind obedience to men of authority,
searching power and recognition,
where are the heroes?
When we hear stories
of the rich buying their commissions –
asinine men procuring leadership –
and leading men into hopeless battles,
where are the heroes?
When thousands die to defend honor,
to bolster pride,
from revengeful decisions,
where are the heroes?
We have created victims, not heroes,
but that would be admitting fault,
and pride won’t allow that.
We need to call them heroes
to justify our imbecility.

Wonder Eyes

wonder eyes
climbed into bed
with yellow socks
warm tickling soothing
touched my lips
stimulating ecstasy
to my toes
leaving the cold world behind
in an array of images and sensations.

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