shadow of a solider waiting at the gate
sea currency conversation with Yeats

stem of earth painted red, a photo of
someone’s interpolation of what god
must look like to those who have lost
a child – a family member or a friend to
the senseless killing our media portrays
as a social act of violence – portrayed on
television with one advertisement after
another in between, picture of someone
else’s family my bibliomancy hallway dream
our civilization built under sky rock ash our
dignity lost in greed – as one people we
now find ourselves lost in grief the death
of innocence having touched us all

times in our lives when all we wanted
was to be able to escape the world we
found ourselves living in, truth’s revelation
my friend – the only difference between then
and now is that the elite have given them –
selves a different name changed their
titles invented different wars for us to fight
branded our religions with weapons of blood
given our children new games to play

created a moral sickness to take away our identity

watching a Giraffe eating the leaves off
the top branch of a tree, a Chipmunk
jumping from one seed to the next, kids
playing together, around and around the-
merry – go round, Nature’s archives preserved
in the verse of poets then and now the music
of our diverse cultures, love mixed in the
paint of artist thrown onto waiting canvas

life unfolding before each of us differently still

the acknowledgment between what is right
what is a lie has never been clearer than today

however the question still remains what can
we do to establish intuitive change, bring some
common sense solutions to our present reality

the answer my friend i am sorry to say though
found in our heart will still be
determine by what we collectively decide to do

this work of prose was deeply influenced by
a friend Christi Moon’s poem “Bereft” who I wish
to thank here for her friendship and support

and a coincidental bibliomancy reading of one of
W.B. Yeats letters to Ezra Weston Loomis Pound

where he explains to Pound why he would suggests that he never
entertain the idea of entering into politics describing those who
consider themselves politicians – bankers -businessmen who make
their living off others — are purposely ignorant of anything truly
important – unwilling to even consider a solution to the problems
society faces as there is no prestige in it no money to be made from it


to the people here that I have meet most recently in
the group ‘poets and artist for a different world’ who have
shown me that regardless of where one lives or what name
one calls the God they pray to that as people sharing the
same world we share more similarities than we do differences

© All Rights Reserved
by joseph mayo wristen
written January 4rd 2013

to the people out there everywhere
who look to protect the
magic that holds the key to our survival

out of love