Cockcrow
Like today, not tomorrow,
In the farmer's grove on tuesday last.
When choices kill naive mice,
And whiskey drops soothe troubled minds.
When snippers loose their narrow aim,
And bullets heal wounded hearts,
Then will I say yes.
When stars loose beams,
When oceans stop their gliding waves,
When earrings etiolate in color,
And angel voices squeak in thundering resound,
Then will I say yes, Yes.
But no. Not if you keep dealing sore hands,
No, I say,
Not even if you kill big ben.
For in these times the world seeks a snigger,
A human element as chief as zephyr.
Forgetting to sing, the whispering trees,
And hum with birds, on coruscating morns,
But, remembering to dine with thieves on heedless nights,
Hmm. I think not.
No. I say no!
No to you useless, bloody, pumpos, empty, wind bags!
11/17/12. Hollywood, California.
poem by Jolomi Amuka
Added by Poetry Lover
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