If the promise of resurrection does not void
The agony of separation with our loved
Ones, why, then, must we – mere mortals – avoid
Admitting grave’s victory over us and our beloved?
Salutes Without Guns
If the hope of eternal bliss does not annul
The pain of bereavement, wherefore, then,
Does death not sting or is grave not victorious at all –
Over us: as yet the earthbound, mortal sons of men?
Salutes Without Guns
Why do the faithful shrink
From the embrace
Of “eternal bliss”?
Why would they rather cling
To the flesh
Even by the thinnest shred
Of their crumbling skin?
What gives
Such honeyed taste
To earthly life?
Salutes Without Guns
Why do the faithful shrink
From the embrace
Of “eternal bliss”?
Why would they rather cling
To the flesh
Even by the thinnest shred
Of their crumbling skin?
What gives
Such honeyed taste
To earthly life?
Salutes Without Guns
There is a grief no voice can speak,
Nor mind comprehend;
It cuts deeper than the quick,
And drips pain even after the end.
Salutes Without Guns
There is a grief no voice can speak,
Nor mind comprehend;
It cuts deeper than the quick,
And drips pain even after the end.
Salutes Without Guns
At love’s checkerboard of delight
Those who play victim botch the game.
Where I Was Born
No fraud escapes the searching hands of light.
And falsehoods, sown, germinate in shame.
Where I Was Born
The murderous eagle earns a worthy name.
The vulture eats the dead and dies in blame.
Where I Was Born
The murderous eagle earns a worthy name.
The vulture eats the dead and dies in blame.
Where I Was Born
