History Stones People. Poem by Samuel Katz

History stones people.


They stoned Moses, David and Linclon,
history did that for all to see


Marbel and cement,
that's all it leaves behind
of a long changing life.


Great heroes of time,
fall under the mercy
of the sculptor's knife.


History stones faces,
in a way that would make
ecclestias cringe.
History stones feet,
in a way that would make
piligrims cry.


History stones life
to always stay fresh,
yet, what is life without
the sins of the flesh.


All the radical kids
get stoned
and never change
or even move a muscle.

All the sword raising warriors
history stoned
without blood in their veins.


You can see all the victims
that history stoned
when you walk in the park,
they got kings
and queens
hell, they even got Gods.


They are there captive
in history's stones,
never to be again what they were;
wilting flesh and
breakable bones.


People look up at them
they are victims too.
History's stones fall far,
even on to you.


Those stoned to live
are like the ones stoned to die.
enslaved to the search
of the frozen smile.


Life is a burning bush
that doesn't get consumed.
not a dead rock
or a statue of history.
It's a fusing wind
of happinnes and misery.
An exploding volcano
of courage and fear.
It is the stem of the flower
struggling through the seasons
to stand and bloom
above the drying soil.


Life is the fighting wave
you see at sea
forgotten and denied
by the stones of history.