Head and heart
I took an onion
I like to eat it raw
Chose a knife; very sharp
Cut it, halves
In centre was brown,
Rotten was in its heart.
Came the thoughts
Went too far and recalled:
"Fish rotten from head."
Head and heart?
Head and heart?
Head and heart?
Then march of
"He killed this."
"He killed that."
All alone…
Heard the choir sing a song
The rebels
The navy
The army
The police
Gun, bomb and dynamite…
Flew wind, came breeze
Burst cloud, and storm:
"They are all particles
In same air, in same sea, all drops…"
Most killers know the gun
Have worked with and tried
How to kill; as soldiers
Then returned.
Back at home miss the gun
Miss killing the ISIS, Taliban
They became disciples of same light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem