weeding the wars

so before we pray again for peace
let us crave first for a weeding
for the thistles of wars grown
on the soil of our bruised innocence…

for the constant wars in the black and blue
fathers’ paint on the cheeks of our mothers
under the watch of our little eyes…

for the wars watered by the tears of mothers
in our hearts
from their sniffing sobs
our dreamless nights
when the thunder of abuse rips
our calm skies into a forceful pool of weeps…

for the wars beastly pencils of sticky lead
draw on the thighs of our virgin papers-
and helplessness
singeing in us the fire of vengeance…

for the wars in the pinches
that sour the juice of forgiveness in our infancy
and build in us the walls of wickedness…

for the wars we etch
in the brawls of ‘take your bicycle away’
and ‘give me the food i gave you a fortnight ago’…

for the wars of poisoned doctrines
forced down the throats of our childhood
and the seeds of hate planted
the survival of love in our hearts…

so before we pray again for peace
let us crave first for a weeding
or we pray in vain
and our wars are eternal…

editors note:

Instead, we enhance them with GMO stamina; war without end, Alas, no more, no more… (We welcome Goodness to our crazy conclave of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page; plus another new one about our poor treatment of words – check it out.) – mh clay

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