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Sunday, January 11, 2009

Dark Mirrors


stars sparkle
a semi-dance with our bombs
that belie a deadly intent,

they strike out the stars
to leave no horizon
to bright sunrise,
but their own:

they scream
at their targets now,
like fireworks in reverse,
falling without contemplation -

drawn to the ground
like winter drawn to the night -

a night eclipsed
by starfall sight, blast-blinded
in this darkness;

smoky sky-trails holding
out a hand through the storm,
Death wraps around fear
to keep it warm,

children mirror the moon:
dishevelled faces
lost to black spaces,

none can see the damage
done to the universe,
until they disappear

and the tides stop
in the sea of youth,
and their silence shouts:

forgive me
for I am no longer
here or anywhere,

and the day will come
for the bombs to stare
into you instead of me,

and there will be
nothing left
for we are all dead,
and that is your legacy



"I" was the word,
upright, strong and bold,
that needed protecting
against us all,
come what may,

we lined it with borders
deeply entrenched
and killed all
that came in its way,

then we realised
that "I" was just a word,
a mockery of humanity,
the more we killed
for it, the less of
"I" there stood to be,

yes - there was a time
"I" was a word, the word -
but no more,
now there
must only be "we".

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