Seismic Poem by shimon weinroth

Seismic



I keep trying to write,
tons of bodies keep piling up, moaning
tell about us and our poor plight.
tell about bombs falling from skies

black columns of smoke
rising to the heavens
tell about angels of death
flying o'er head, raining words of rhetoric

rasping mouths scream and yell
bombs and mortar keep shelling,
Twisting distorting, flesh and material,
turn, scorched meat and rubble

the gods of war
from out of hades fly about,
to rule the minds abnd color the skies
with the din of death and destruction

sirens of ambulances, sirens of news call out
wind down, dark clouds hover and hang
above suffering wounded, weeping blood

burnt tissues skinned from the body
seething pain and hurt,
tears streaming, bubble forth without comfort
to ease the excruciating

control of body functions let go
pouring out putrid of the maimed
entrails hanging out
as life sources shut down

eyes milling around stunned and astounded
by this maze, that sweeps over the lands,
terrorists mete out death in the name of patriotism
sentences of mass murder

in the name of culture and tradition

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