Thursday, September 27, 2012
I wake each morning with a sigh,
A stretch that reaches a mile high.
I look out the window at the flames
Rolling past me, the countless names
That streak the papers come to mind,
I pray to God that he to them be kind.
I walk down the stairs, to eat of course.
I don't have a car, or even a horse;
Which means that i'm lugging it to work
Before I get fired by my boss, that irk
In my side, that pain in my wrist...
You all get the sense, the gist.
I hear the siren go off again, and again.
Fall down in my seat, underneath
The table; insufficient as this pen
Is I still feel safer, can still bequeath
To my heart some satisfaction
While outside rages the malefaction.
I walk out the door with a prayer or two.
I think of true love, and what man will do
To have just the sight of his lovers glance;
One more night, just one more dance...
My prayer collides with the sound of flames
That consumes the ever higher list of names...
I reach my destination before death can find
My name in the street; God today is kind...
Perhaps says a voice its simply my luck
That I should have been saved from the muck
And filth that swarm the street outside...
Perhaps, respond I, yet I hurry inside...
The shouts and the screams of hurry it up
Do cause me distress; like a mindless pup
That's woken up at the middle of night
I run hither and thither, all a fright.
A single mistake in here and your done...
Overhead we hear an airplane's run...
I nod to my friend standing in the back;
He works with the printer. I with the stack
Of paper feed the hungry machines,
That print with black ink madmen dreams.
For who could believe a word of ink
When one see's that the words do stink...
I offer thanks for getting through the morning;
But ask for protection, lest in scorning
The enemy come to take me away
Into the night, and the endless day.
I start to eat lunch, and again I hear
The sound of bullets, at which I do sneer.
Writhing anger rises and falls with a crash
Similar to the sound of a mortar's splash
Upon the ground, not thirty feet from our place!
The cry of another soul, another nameless face...
I keep working, though my friends do cower...
And my boss, frightened, is no longer a tower.
By the end of the day, all is done, I'm alive.
I continue to pray; on the way home I strive
To keep my eyes averted from the pain,
I hear in the street an endless refrain
For help, for money, for swatches of food!
But I would not help them, even if I could.
I turn a corner, and another one comes!
They rush to get near me, the drums
Of the innocent destroyed by other men;
They seek a place to stay, a home, a den.
For themselves, their children, their wives!
Yet I continue onward, clutching my knives.
Is it fear that prevents me from loving?
Is it pain that causes me to look away?
Why do I keep onward, ever striving
To make it to the end of another day?
Am I lucky where they are not?
Or do I have for a moment, what I have got...
I reach my home, I pray again, thankful
That I have managed to reach the end;
How very sad is my heart, how pitiful
Is the frame of this man. I do intend
To do better tomorrow, if I can.
That's always the hope, the plan.
I sit down to eat, the sound of knocking...
These beggars do come to me, stalking
Me in the streets and at home.
They have no where to stay, so they roam
Without rest, offend all that they see...
For they are the proof of lacking generosity...
The gnawing, the gnashing, these screeching souls
Begin to tear away at my patience, my control!
I stand in anger, I refrain from speech...
Lest I should destroy them like a leech!
Then walking to the door, my heart stops dead...
I hear what they hear, and it fills me with dread.
Laughter in the streets, men with guns...
No more words do come; sudden drums
Do pound upon my chest and I sweat...
How many of them will survive? Forget
Says the voice inside of me, forget them!
Tis but a dream, a cycle of REM!
The sound of gunfire pierces the night...
I see it all as in a vision pervades one's sight...
I sit back down, another falls to the ground...
No more to irritate me; no not a sound
Shall bother me again this night. Not one.
They had nowhere to hide...nowhere to run.
I walk up the stairs at night with a prayer...
Desperate excuses made up of despair
From own guilt wrung out of my heart...
Have I been wise in action? Or failed my part?
The sound of flames outside again...
I am safe inside of my home, this fen...
I go to sleep, I am not afraid of these sounds
That now terrorize the city, these evil lauds
That clout the sky and beat the ground...
I am scared of what inside of me is found.
I am frightened that what I've done
Is not enough to escape deaths conundrum.
I wake in the morning, I offer a prayer...
I open my eyes, and then I do stare
At the ceiling with regret and pain...
At the thought that I have become another name
That none will remember, no none at all...
The sound of the plane is my death call...
I do not run, I do not flee...
I am indifferent. I am free?
I am despairing...I give up!
I am a mongrel, a mere pup!
I am a man without a bone
To pick, a heart of stone...
Learn from me, lest you die of it...
Lest you die where you do now sit...
Learn from me, lest the pain inside
Should grow from wounded pride.
Learn from me, lost love's not enough
To cause you to shun others, to bluff
Your way through life as a loner...
To give up on men, to be a runner...
Now the flames envelope me with a bang!
I feel for a moment the whip of the tang
In the everlasting flames of doom...
I know no more...there is no room
For love, no room for hate...
I am indifferent...that is my fate...
Awake with the fear of God in your heart!
Awake! For today you must begin, start
To act without fear of what is outside!
Let go of vanities, of foolish pride!
Awake! Awake! Fire and sword do come!
Whether you like it or not, the beating drum
Will become your ears or your heart...
Awake...do now begin to do your part...
And love eternal shall be yours to keep.
What you sow will eventually be yours to reap...
Believe, with all sincerity
That you can love, that you can be free...
Here's Hoping...(c) Luke Bennette, September 2012