In the reeds of the stream

Since the autumn came
The marsh reeds have dried
The sun though colder
Has taken its toll
The reeds are turned brown
But like all things
There is beauty in the decay
Like a woman older in days
With skin wrinkled
But has exquisite grace
Or a child
Turned from toddler
And a toddler's tumult and rage
To near adult
The turn of years
Ripen the youth
Into bravery
Outside of the age
Of his body

Wine Poured Out

1964 It got worse
We were drawn in deeper
In an alien part of the earth
Few could find on the map
We were tired of war
Tired of the curse of anger
The scars from the great wars
Still brightly seen
This green beautiful place
The blue skies
Above the green thick cover
Showed the jets flying sorties
Bombing river boats
Attacking bridges
To choke the flow
Of materiel to the South
This corner of an ignored world
Was now crossroads of Cold war conflict
East versus West
Super powers collide
Politically charged fires
In a world with borders
Drawn with barbed wire
We sent our children to fight
To make a stand
For an ill defined goal
In a foreign land
And we won nothing
But the costs of lost youth
Sorrow beyond measure
Toxic poisons in our soul
Broken warriors with limbs with no use
A beautiful vintage of wine
Poured upon the ground
After so much promise
What was the point




What was the point



There is none.

Burn

screaming answers
that burn like fire
filled with cancers
of society’s desires
we are the youth
without birth
we are the ones
who bear the cross
of the burdens
of those never
begun
burn in us
burn in us
like a storm
raging out of control
with flame instead of rain
burn in us
our veins bear your mark
we are the ones
who bear your message
burn in us
brand my heart
burn
let it burn
and may our ash
be the gentle ground
for a new world
at last
we will be done
and returned
to where this
was begun