Planes From Above: War Without Love
Let me not give advice;
I know this sounds ridiculous,
But here I sit with viewpoints wise
Saying, “Hey, girls, boys, gals, guys…do this”
And in the Ukraine fleeing, fled, each desperate to sleep in a bed,
Be fed, roof overhead…two million shoes, ten million toes.
Here i, observer, lachrymose,
Scribbling verse, a bit of prose
With psyche, intellect, emotion, but
Still distant, safe from growling hunger;
Who am to guide and counsel, prowling groomed
From room to room
When planes now bomb and bullets zoom!
It’s war, day eight!
Hate’s gear, fear’s gate
Still flourishing.
There are no friendly, helping drones, just phones.
I sorely wish each Wifi dish continues working
So the jerking round of hackers
Does not rid us of the facts,
The actualities of every moment,
Each fomenting of P’s lies.
Not weak, but meek goodbyes for now:
Until tomorrow.
Planes From Above: War Without Love 3.3.2022 War Book; Our Times, Culture II; Arlene Nover Corwin
Arlene Corwin Poetry 