July 21, 2012

poem 245 of a poem a day for 2012



in November, Neil Armstrong says to vote for a world perspective

but instead we will plant more flags
and build more fences with our hands
inside and all around every vagina
we can keep to keep ourselves
from burning up all the wombs at once

we are saviors
in leather bound winning columns
as we are hailing and assailing the need
for more bullets and taxis
can we just try to remember
to smell ourselves
on the shelves of this politicized
narrow canyon view
that America has become
and say, that’s right Neil
let’s go and do something
besides giving our minds up
to be Jacob’s Marley’s ghost
pointing and shooting our fingers
to blame the chains we keep ourselves with

no instead
we will steal garden gnomes
and ignore our totem poles
and say that my America
doesn’t need to be saved
so as much as appreciation here
is an empty blood bank need
for all differences of the American people
each and every one of us
has to know
somewhere inside us
that we are each a living will
and that we the people
are the constitution of human soul
so if you think conservation
and the good booked morality
is the way to go
then I say
go fuck yourself with your atom bombs
and pencil needs to trade
liberty for security
so you can say
you saved freedom

go fuck yourself
until you can see
the salt that bleeds
when you crawl across
the broken glass
of your hollow life
the bottled imp bargain
that no amount of robberies of Peter
can say you paid Paul
all that you had owed him

so instead of planting
flags and fences
plant a tree and see
that you may not get
to taste its fruit
but that those that come
to the great halls
of the bone cages
searching for a soul to fill
after your own body as taken it’s leave
might find a ripe there
at the right time to feed
into a knowledge that loving life
is what we do to smile

is what we do to find a way to
those faraway places
that are somewhere between
saving an ideal on a Polaroid
in a shoebox of forgotten dreams
and my asking for your forgiveness
for eating those plums
that were delicious, so sweet
and so cold

EJR ©

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