We Need our Devils
devils never go out of style, so it goes
fashions change but beneath the clothes
still the same old fear, the devils’ trap and bait
so we whip and burn, interrogate
paint them with horns, color them red
convince ourselves we’re better off if they’re dead
put a target on their backs and call them militant
to justify destroying a bothersome irritant
the problem is while we’re running around
accusing and killing and chasing them down
it never occurs to us that we’ve come to appear
much like the devils that we ourselves fear.
Better to Welcome the Darkness
sometimes lighting one match is cursing the dark
as when a fiery missile sends its message stark
as when a village burns because of what might be hiding
inside a dark hut, the lightning inviting
as when a laser beam settles on a target
tracked by the heat from its blood and its heart, it
beats in a place we don’t understand
better to kill it than lend it a hand.
sometimes it’s better to dispense with the matches
and welcome the darkness, open the hatches
allow for others to discover their wrong and their right
what is the darkness, what is the light.
The Tyranny of the Marketplace
the marketplace has replaced values (what of it?)
there is no virtue but the sign of the profit
with a quantified value for every thing
no morality but what makes the bookkeeper sing
as they meter the air and patent our genes
tell us what’s right and sell us our dreams
spy on those who raise a voice to object
over every citizen claim the right to inspect
every movement and package and message they send
every word to examine for what it just might intend
all of us suspect, reduced to a file of data
if we don’t get you now we’ll get ‘round to you later.
Engine of Survival
we’ve done all the studies, trended the graphs
oceans rising and dying, its creatures’ last gasps
golden wheat and corn turn to drought-pounded dust
in the forests the mid-summer leaves turn to rust
behind barbed wire the mothers weep
storms rage at our cities and waters sweep
giving the lie to dreams of secure golden years
some to guns or to god turn to lessen their fears
the people are restive but their voices choke
contemplating the boldness of the requisite stroke
time to remember the truth that resides in the heart
to heal and make whole we must all play a part.
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