I’m not sure where this poem came from or exactly what it means, but it emerged and took flight as a result of a prompt in a writing workshop.
So here it is.
Drones are sometimes used for bombing.
They’re also used for taking pictures and videos. Read More…
“Do you believe in God?” He asked.
“No,” I replied without thinking.
Later, I reconsidered.
I feel the existence of some form of higher power, spirit, universal energy/power/force. It’ hard to identify and name.
Whatever it is, it does not belong to Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism or any of the others. While I believe in angels, I don’t believe in religion.
Those thoughts spawned this poetic rant:
One night I found myself in tears wishing I were somewhere other than where I was.
The next morning I dragged my spirit out of a ditch and told myself to get on with it. I wrote the poem below as part of that process.
Don’t like the cards you’ve been dealt? Deal yourself a new hand.
hack and kill
a poem by punkie
Hack and Kill went up the hill
To see whom they might slaughter.
Just for kicks they fired their sticks
Amidst a bunch of squatters. Read More…
I’m really tired. We’re all really tired.
“We” being the vast majority of people worldwide who are fed up with the violence, torture and killing a small crazy percentage continues to wreak on innocent others using all kinds of weapons large and small.
It’s time it all stopped.
Enough is enough no matter what language you speak, or what God you worship, or not for that matter.
Here’s a little ditty for these festive times (sing to the tune of Deck the Halls): Read More…