On To Other Things
Sorry, public!
Every day,
Two hundred issues in the way,
And it’s now it’s April 27th
And I’ve not had much to say
For 30 days or more.
The War! The filthy war!
I know the score.
We all still see the tortures,
Rapes and killings,
Buryings and pilllagings,
Flattenings, demolishings…
There’s been no end
Except for diplomatic sending:
Men’s diplomacy trained in talking.
Mr Putin walking, hawking
Like the KGB he’s trained to be.
Does he believe the ideology?
Some part of him must realise –
But his disguise lies in the lies:
Promises of peace,
Yet each day pieces of more crises.
Standing out to me:
His lack of empathy.
Buildings can be reconstructed –
Holy church re-benedicted,
Territories are not prime but are the crime.
Lifeless bodies never can be life perfected;
Never, ever in our time.
The lack of choices that he offers.
Lack of morals in his soldiers, officers.
His voice offhanded,
Every bit is ‘off’!
Once again, I’m sorry
For a silence muzzling my thoughts.
I cannot watch the news I ought to.
Fears and staining tears, constraining pains
Have sent the pen
In more directions – uh, distractions.
At its core this war is killing
Much, much more than we envisioned.
On To Other Things, Sorry4.27.2022 War Book; Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Nover Corwin
Arlene Corwin Poetry 