Treasure Island

Cheryl L. DaytecYañgot

(Baguio City, Philippines)

REFLECTIONS ON FAHRENHEIT 9/11


I can smell the raw tangy scent
of will drying in my hand
I see the shape of dreams
Escaping the bowels of the fields
Like a thick swirl of smoke from a
Tire factory’s chimney
What is life but a flash of light
A bomb can easily put out
Until no one hears a town’s last cry?
No one listens to the orphans’ prayers
Having seen too much, too early
even infants know the meaning of mortality
For life is but a slave
To a conscience run amok
For the price of every dropp
of blood of the innocent
is a heavy pocket from firearms
and napalm bombs
“No war, no weapons business!
No mutilation, no murder!
No murder, no war! ”
Grand dreams weaved in the brains
Of small bodies
Barely out of the womb
Become evanescent shades of themselves.
(11Sept06)

Submitted: Monday, November 03, 2008
Edited: Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (REFLECTIONS ON FAHRENHEIT 9/11 by Cheryl L. DaytecYañgot )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..
[Hata Bildir]