POEM: The Lamb and The Lyin’

Violence often seems to be second nature, obvious or inescapable. Perhaps violence is inescapable because it begets itself, setting up new rounds of consequences where further violence begs further violence. Violence begetting itself may just be the manifestation of the sacred preyer: “go f–k yourself.” Being the change we want to see in the world shapes our reality. Choosing violence seems to me like a profoundly apt example of reaching for a simple solution to complex problems. Still, in a whirled of lions eating lambs, being a wolf seems a proud victory and being a lamb seems only appetizing to wolves. Creative nonviolence may be too much to ask. I don’t believe we ARE wolves, nor lambs. We can do better. Where wolves rule the world, there is not enough silver bullets…

The Lamb and The Lyin’

They poor tend
That they would never meat
A lamb too slaughter
Cloaked for success
In premises of a future undertaken
They wore their war
Like wear wolves
Not no’ing
In awe of the whirled
There is not enough
Silver bullets

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