War sucks; Sex rules

Dusty blood and black-stained mud.
An arch framed a faded wooden chair;
No remains of its table or desk in view,
Broken supports and a hole for a seat.
Laying rays caught the dust of homes
Used to protect hearts and minds,
Broken pieces left guarding long shadows.

While the destruction turned time backward
Here, there were great leaps forward.
Education brought opportunity, less hardship;
Discovery of new things excited youth, but couldn’t support tradition.
Rebelled-against fathers still held the reigns of the great oily beast;
Armies used for cleansing roots of transgression,
And fundamentals found excuses in words
They broke free from their meaning.

The flip-side of backwards is forwards;
The sperm to the egg.
Father and Mother moving time in sheets.
Creating homes for lights;
Shining reasons for immortality.
Now the future has reason for beings.
The opposite of war is sex.


I’ve started using those three dots to indicate that I am now talking to you! I’ve always wanted to write an epic poem, like that of Walt Whitman and the like. I’m a very to-the-point kinda guy tho, so I’ve had trouble stretching my thoughts and ideas. It is also because I’m right in the middle of my subject. I can’t get out and above it to see it all and describe it. I might have something by the end of the year, so there is something to look forward to!

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.