Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Poem #3-2011

What to say?
What to do?
How to make sense
of so much
at once?
Heartache swells.
Suffering shall
not subside
without a fight.
do not paralyze
us with your
icy grip.
The Buddhist monk
says, "Surrender."
I slay him
dead by his first teacher.
To Wisconsin, Ohio, Libya,
and too many other places -
some known, many not.
More powerful than an
army's march
said Hugo.
I hope that's true.