POEM: Revolutions Violent

Revolutions Violent

Any revolution
That must dispose of enemies
Remains
Mirrorly
A turning
Of the tables
Going round
Not with standing
How grate thou Art
And wore
A game that can only
Play you
Fraught with duel intentions
That two-sided sored
Giving rise to dark knights
In the theaters of life
Gone batty by our blindness
Convinced of our sound mind
Squealing beyond any hearing of just us
Re-lying on eary reflections of reality
A doody-full radar responding to this MASH
Efficiently allowing for corporeal punishment
Beyond the mountaintops
And promised lands
MLKing our hopes
With bullet points
Only outlining
The gravest of matters
In chalk
Where truth lies
And faux canons
Turn on
US

Violence begets violence.  Violent revolutions must declare violence inviolate, seeding the next violent revolution.  What goes around comes around.  Playing God with war ends up in us being played.  Violence and killing demands the denial of another’s sacred worth.  This truth is the first casualty of every war fraught.  The drums of war are beaten with solemn speeches, truth-challenged bullet points, and faux demonization.  The myth of redemptive violence lays the bloody groundwork for violence in all forms, providing the easy cover of necessity — “you made me do it.”  As the theologian Walter Wink puts it, “The myth of redemptive violence is the simplest, laziest, most exciting, uncomplicated, irrational and primitive depiction of evil the world has ever known.”  Unfortunately, these unsound canons always turn on us eventually.  Of course, taking responsibility for our own actions, and our own dark impulses, may be even more difficult than making others pay for our shortcomings with their lives. Yet, as I like to say: peace may cost as much as war, but it is a much better deal!

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