So where is it
The path to peace
Ordinary people want
While silly
Little boys
Rattle their toys
Mythbots promote their just-war stories

Children ask for peace
Our world watches
Carries on as usual

And Elmer Gantry is re-born

And we hear
That they
Deny deny deny
Someone who knows who
Someone bombed
Another power plant

Another school

In America are prayers for peace

You just gotta love Americans …
… well some americans
The questions they ask …
That Canadians might
Get so brave

And in the Holyland there is a meeting of the peoples of the book as The Pope prays for peace.

In America a Rabbi asks for Peace

Somewhere a voice for peace whispers

Where are the lines
Between the dots
What a picture
How hard was it
To draw then
A picture of peace now

As peace might be
In the invisible land

A traveller
Might wonder
Where are the signs

Meanwhile back in Canada

Business goes on

As we … Watch … Do we approve
Do we object
Do we sit silent
Do we speak
What may we say

Besides wasn’t that path always
Just a wee bit
On the crooked?

Once so delicate
Now clearly defined
From walls and tarmac

And on the road
Of good intentions
Who is responsible
For truth
For propaganda
That feeds the fire
Not I said all those
Who danced their way
Through the motions
Of each their own
Through that ultimate
Dance of war

Some once again
Some ask important questions
Tell the odd important story

Some honour the memories
Of their ancesters
It’s a human thing
To remember our past
Revere our homeland.

Some donate to peace they think
But do they really know
Some pray for victory
While they fight
For the right
To bear arms

And make music
But is that so important
Even necessary some say
Maybe even dangerous

As they ban instruments

Surely not still

As foolish as all this sounds
Might we wonder
That children
Turn to rocks and guns

Some would lay blame
Upon their culture
So backwards they say
What they need no doubt
Is democracy
While some claim
It’s time for parents
To speak out
Against violence

For some meanwhile
As the saying goes
Debate continues.

Some try to create
A new path

Operator please


4 thoughts on “Path

  1. While I did grow up in southern California, I was frequently in B.C. as that was where grandma lived. It didn’t seem to matter to me that I was born in the states, both sets of parents/grandparents hailed from Europe and that was where I found my identity. Perhaps you will find it strange but I never felt at home until I moved to France. Home is where the heart is and mine is here.
    I enjoyed the poems I have found on here so far but am having a bit of difficulty finding more. If you are into poetry, perhaps you would care to check out my other blog? Léa


      • Maggie, thank you for stopping by and commenting. I’m glad if you enjoyed some of my work. Appreciation in my community… In the blogging community yes, there is some appreciation. In my community where I live… Not until my French is good enough to translate my work. While I am working on it, translating poetry is not easy. C’est la vie, I am working on it. Few if any of my neighbours speak any English. Léa


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