By What Right? A Lesson In Intolerance! Poem by Terence George Craddock

(a study questioning prejudice and intolerance)

In Buddhist philosophy theories
all insects even buzzing flies
have the right to life to free fly
observe monks sweep insects
from their path to avoid stepping on bugs...

to accidently avoid ending their lives
so as not to disturb their karma lives
in Buddhist philosophy peace survives
respect for life all things all creatures lives
in galactic cosmos peace harmony thrives...

Tell me by what right
do we live do we die?

The fly bothers me
with its buzzing,
its flight about upon
my naked
sun soaking up skin,
in this restorative moment
sustaining need
for unseasonably hot autumn
sun soaking up relaxation.

The fly bothers us
several flies
buzzing alighting
upon my bare legs
my knees...

I will not tolerate it.
I will kill it. Kill it.
Them. All of them.
Does it have a right
to live? Do they?

It disturbs me.

A fly. Flies.
Have but a moment
to live
to die.

The man bothers
acceptable me us
with his smell
his unbelonging
personal hell.

My. Our Tolerance.

Does not allow,
for him, for cultural
crushed differences,
for ethnic discarded
reality, in which he lives.

The man bothers me
insulated affluent us
with his homeless smell
his degraded unbelonging
personal broken hell.

Our Stonyhearted Tolerance

for him, for cultural crushed differences,
for ethnic discarded reality, in which he lives.
Tolerance is propaganda fickle does not extend,
into compassion tolerance, for target downtrodden,
in hate regime; festered intolerance for scapegoat others.

Society personalities infested with prejudice.

Taught nit picking differences
skin colours hair colours
way he she walks talks
offensive clothes gang patches
tattoos out of fashion clothes shoes

Man type bothers me
the drunks,
the gangs,
the fightings,
the dysfunctional dishevelled lives.

Judgement types bothers me
targeting the drunks,
the gays,
the gangs, the fightings,
the poverty dysfunctional dishevelled lives.

I will not tolerate it.
I will not accept it.
I will reject it.

I turn my back on it.
I should not have to look at it.
I will sign post prohibit arrest it.

My God!
What is to become of it?
Nit picking spotting eye sight!

They are disdained dregs
disrespected distanced by
dispossessing discarding society.

I kill them with indifference
as surely as I kill the fly
with my irritated intolerance.

They have but a moment
to live to die.
We have but a moment
to peace restore try.
A little peace tolerance to buy?

They have no part place
in grandiose perceptions
all inclusive humanity
when theory
impacts upon reality.

Tell me by what right
do we live do we die?

life mirrors illusions mysteries
human interest has fickle histories
time plots age altering memories

our future is time born in past opportunities
we grow through changing experiences realities
silver spoon plastic spoon cast expectations

by what inherent right does a butterfly freedom fly?
earned pupa chrysalis cell transformation past must die?
caterpillar crawled survived spun silk to touch the sky?

a common butterfly flutters past
people notice staggering flight
so small so easily seen followed

but people poor are sight ignored
the poor are discarded stepped around
the poor are unworthy of thought

isolated in filth, in rags,
in squalor pitiful stupor
in numbing cold,

fear freezing dark,
crawls chills pipe spinal chords
echoes in cosmopolitan shadows

under desolate abandoned bridges
beneath garbage infested overpasses
cluster citizens bin burning tyres

the wash-outs,
the no hopers
drug addicts

loser thieves,
isolated scapegoats
or cause of crime?

selected unwanted castouts
sentenced crime criminals
of our caring prodigal society?

how did they stone fall
so far from loving comfort
of their mother's womb?

if we do not learn love compassion mercy
storybook time absorbing at a mother's knee
broken home realities hold future shadows

Isolated in filth in rags in stupor
in numbing cold,
fear freezing dark cosmopolitan
urban nights
the wash-outs, the no hopers,
drug addicts, thieves,
isolated cause of crime
in our caring prodigal society?

While socialite flops
spend money recklessly
in extravagant glass showcases
corporate loophole tax evaders
demeaning wash-outs, the no hopers,
isolated victims sentenced to loser crimes.

Poverty is indifference calculated
by bean counter menial servants
serving elite slum lord masters...
Poverty slave civilization perpetuated
who cares for the poor left out in the cold?
Who cares starving victims living skeletons die?

Isolated in filth in rags in degraded stupor...

They are disdained dregs
disrespected distanced by
dispossessing society.

They have no part place of sanctuary
in grandiose all inclusive humanity
when theory impacts upon bigot reality.

Isolated in filth in rags in squalor pitiful stupor
in the cold of dark cosmopolitan urban nights
the wash-outs, the no hopers, drug addicts, thieves,
isolated cause of crime in our caring prodigal society.

I kill them with indifference
as surely as I kill the fly
with decisive intolerance.

They have but a moment
to live to die.
We have but a moment
to live to die.

I kill them
with indifference
as surely as I kill
the fly
with decisive
intolerance.

A crowd composed of sun seeking flies
now suns upon concrete door-step
sunning in light late afternoon sunshine

I wave my arms about them
they dance in late afternoon sunshine

I conduct a cloud of flies
in congruent rhapsody of aerial ballet

a cloud composed of sun seeking flies
now sun dances above near about concrete
door-step in subdued light embracing late

afternoon sunshine; sun soon going down
a back swarm of flies in darkening dusk skies
lingers dances into dusk disappears till dawn

a space opera of flies; celebrates air currents
celebrates late afternoon life lived on wing leavings
celebrates wing tip feasts on sticky summer days


Copyright © Terence George Craddock