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Mar 01, 2009
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the world is bankrupt (Buzzard Pickings)
1.
when the spirit is bankrupt
the world is its reflection
America The Beautiful
has lost its high moral ground,
when a country is founded
on Peter's rock
what work is left for the unwilling
whose work can never be undone?
the streets are mean
and anger swells
a tsunami of lies;
we have forgotten
the truth is like light,
is seen in what is revealed,
not in what is denied,
the world is bankrupt
when beauty is hidden behind a flag-draped coffin,
and numbers surpass millions who have been swallowed up
unseen into the ground
we make holy by the blood of innocents
who is just
when wives and daughters,
sisters and mothers
are blamed for a man's lust-filled heart?
when money is king,
and forgiveness is not in the vocabulary
and vengeance is mine,
the holy land
is not a promise fulfilled
but the division bell
between all people.
2.
No one was ready to hear the truth.
Inept solitude
i just can't do without you....
my friend is homeless in Melbourne
another is slowly killing himself
with depression and grief
my x has come home to roost for awhile
home is sanctuary
not the battle zone
we once shared
my beloved died
and still lives as close as my next breath
in my still-beating heart of desire
in Japan
a man's wife left with his 3 children
when he no longer had work as a museum director
and went bankrupt
in the always-present state of emerging emergency,
he lives in a room the size of an American
walk-in closet,
cleans the $20 a-day *living quarters*
for a living
who knew tent cities had been going up
since the early 1990's,
who is our brother's keeper?
i don't eat
much pie anymore,
humbling as it is...
large blackbirds circle
like dying swans,
falling into our just deserts
like legions of mea culpas.
3.
how far away is the I
from the whole?
is an electronic microscope
needed to see the holes of infinity?
can we see the colours of life
in the spaces of awareness
deep in the space of nothing,
voyagers all,
voyeurs in the occlusion of a single eye,
where only light is seen
and fractured
with intent and purpose
into billions and billions
on the far side of the music
that plays a simple harmony,
ever lost in the ajna
where the prophet
sleeps,
destined to be awakened
with a bang
in the one hand,
clapping
with approval.
when the spirit is bankrupt
the world is its reflection
America The Beautiful
has lost its high moral ground,
when a country is founded
on Peter's rock
what work is left for the unwilling
whose work can never be undone?
the streets are mean
and anger swells
a tsunami of lies;
we have forgotten
the truth is like light,
is seen in what is revealed,
not in what is denied,
the world is bankrupt
when beauty is hidden behind a flag-draped coffin,
and numbers surpass millions who have been swallowed up
unseen into the ground
we make holy by the blood of innocents
who is just
when wives and daughters,
sisters and mothers
are blamed for a man's lust-filled heart?
when money is king,
and forgiveness is not in the vocabulary
and vengeance is mine,
the holy land
is not a promise fulfilled
but the division bell
between all people.
2.
No one was ready to hear the truth.
Inept solitude
i just can't do without you....
my friend is homeless in Melbourne
another is slowly killing himself
with depression and grief
my x has come home to roost for awhile
home is sanctuary
not the battle zone
we once shared
my beloved died
and still lives as close as my next breath
in my still-beating heart of desire
in Japan
a man's wife left with his 3 children
when he no longer had work as a museum director
and went bankrupt
in the always-present state of emerging emergency,
he lives in a room the size of an American
walk-in closet,
cleans the $20 a-day *living quarters*
for a living
who knew tent cities had been going up
since the early 1990's,
who is our brother's keeper?
i don't eat
much pie anymore,
humbling as it is...
large blackbirds circle
like dying swans,
falling into our just deserts
like legions of mea culpas.
3.
how far away is the I
from the whole?
is an electronic microscope
needed to see the holes of infinity?
can we see the colours of life
in the spaces of awareness
deep in the space of nothing,
voyagers all,
voyeurs in the occlusion of a single eye,
where only light is seen
and fractured
with intent and purpose
into billions and billions
on the far side of the music
that plays a simple harmony,
ever lost in the ajna
where the prophet
sleeps,
destined to be awakened
with a bang
in the one hand,
clapping
with approval.
— Kailashana, Mar 01, 2009
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Critiques
yenti
17 years 2 months ago
Kailashana