A Paroxysm Of Despair Poem by Duane Robert Pierson

A Paroxysm Of Despair



Not to be held in contempt because I knew.
God we all know of this worse than hell,
Darfur where the Janjaweed militia ride, killing
maiming, torturing, and raping with impunity.
We know of multiple genocides in all their horror,
other times, someone else’s history,
but this is ours, a modern monstrosity,
most horrible because we know and ignore.
Tell me of a people who bask in luxury,
people who find banal reality on TV,
who get fat while others starve.

Hold me not in contempt because I do nothing.
Hear not the screams from that other world,
know not the pain of starvation,
experience not the rapist’s mocking laugh,
know not the hopelessness of no recourse,
hold not a child who can no longer cry,
all at the very moment we cosset life.
Stupefied by celebrity nonsense,
numbed gnomes languishing
under toadstools of innocence,
mistaking a pinprick for a slash,
Hold me not in contempt.

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