OF WARS AND THINGS (A TRILOGY FOR PEACE)

                        I

The whole world is a war and we are its       

     Victims; you and me…us;

Fading silhouettes of life, chasing tomorrow

     In euphoric bliss…

Riding high on a giant white cloud:

     A mushroom nourishing on pregnancies

    Giving birth to new world war ghosts.

Living today has be indefinitely postponed;

     The world has declared war on peace.

                              II

In psalms of dreams, webbed in the labyrinth

     Time spins; praying to the fertility gods,

I stole a hole in space and planted a flower;

     Mourning peace amidst

The empty shadows of wars never won.

                              III

They say flowers don’t grow here anymore:

     Earth’s womb a victim of nuclear pus;

And her tissues of civilization lay rotting

     From atomic infestation;

Military plagues mutating shells of humanity

     Freaked out on self destruction.

As peace suffocates at the conference table,

     God is denied a seat.