Thursday, November 13, 2014

There’s Much That Needs Repair

There’s Much That Needs Repair
The minds of men are fickle, and women too are swayed
By wind and tide and fashion, as others watch dismayed.
They seek for reason steady, they look for conscience clear.
They hope for true compassion, but rarely find it near.

We go to wars in frenzies, we’re led to battles dire,
And though we’re red and gory, of this, do humans tire?
The horsemen whip the stallions, and see – they gallop more.
And who will pause from racing – or even try to slow?

For faster, ever faster, is Mammon’s main demand.
But who can still resist this – or even understand?
The Bloombergs make their billions, they squeeze the workers tight,
And who will dare to question – or say it isn’t right?

The more the factory’s profit, the more we are oppressed.
Can learning true, or teaching, be more and more compressed?
We’re told to cut the corners, but never told this loud.
We bow to all the falsehoods that pose as purpose proud.

There’ll come a time when loving, in euros, yen is sold.
For all, that’s deemed as precious, is eyed for ventures bold.
Enough of buying, selling – of body, mind and soul!
It’s time for a repairing – to make what’s shattered whole.

How sweet the sound of wisdom, how clear is reason’s call!
But who of us has courage, to stand for one and all?
Behold the spoils of carnage, and hearken to despair.
The time has come to stop it.  There’s much that needs repair.

The child is quietly playing, as children once did do.
The mother and the father are none but me and you.
The calf is quietly grazing – but no – it’s what we dreamed.
When conscience has awakened, it’s not as what it seemed.

Do not depend on prophets to tell you what is right.
And do not run to bosses to aid your petty fight,
But listen to your conscience and be of charity.
Expel the must of madness and breathe of clarity.

The revolutions happen – and then they dissipate
And make things even harder, for those who work and wait.
It's quiet that is needed, so rush and madness cease.
The sound is then of gladness, the work is that of peace.

2014 November 13th, 3:29 am
Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, New York

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