Gone, By Guns

    Eyes boring holes in our lucent panes.              
Watching as death waxes & never wanes.

We worry if here’s where it happens next.
Dazed by fear while nooses drape our necks.

Pitilessly praying carnage passes you by.
Telling yourselves every available lie.

With a gun on your hip & a hand on a Bible.
The Other your trigger, inflexibly tribal.

It’s not an issue of you versus them.
It’s the defensive use of weapons on whim.

Not occurring to seek help & employ words.
Just opening fire on the innocent herds.

Politics felating their funnels of money.
The wealthy alone drink of milk & of honey.

The right & the wrong rent from the nation.
No respite found in just litigation.

The cycle begins again & again.
On self-righteous wings we swiftly descend.

Run in your races or take to the street.
Find jilted justice under bulleted sleet.


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I see the world through a Painter’s eyes and process it with a Poet's Heart....it's quite a harsh place for the soul. It scratches and wears your true self down, at times, but the Beauty is Addictive. I feel for everyone I encounter. Everyone I encounter is a teacher if I'll let them be. I Empathize with everyone I talk to & I Think about Everything-LEVi

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