Poem- Canyon of Graves

This is a poem I wrote during the Bush Administration, after it was obvious that the Iraq War was out of control, and that government eavesdropping on private citizens was not being covered by the media to the extent that the American people needed them to be. I have this recorded, also, on an audio CD. This poem never got much attention from anybody I sent it to, but maybe now is the time, we should all discuss how it was a few people in this country managed to blackmail their way into power, and destroy any major disent of opinion.


Canyon of Graves

1

White Horse
Behind your cloak the shrouded hedge stones
Of those that swore their life to you.
In your front lawn
Their mother’s demand explanation.

White Horse
You owe your life to dethroned kings.
A trench of gold was your reward
For the sacrifice you made
In your promises that were half-truths.

White Horse
Demons smile down upon you.
You believe God speaks to you.
Delusions of grandeur are a prophet’s downfall
And a psychotic’s excuse.

White Horse
Self-betterment is not necessarily self-preservation.
Your revenge was to return to Holy Land
And install a canyon of graves.
You ran rivers of blood into our living rooms,

White Horse,
Tapped off the bloodline of future generations.
Your mercy was in not inspiring total obliteration.
In peaceful countries evil exists. You chose
To extinguish evil of your elder’s creation.

White Horse….into the street!
Leave your jeweled tower and see what is written on the wall!
The faggots and the terminally ill beg you to see them as human!
Your friends truly are your worst enemies!
You etched a stain of a temporary success…

White Horse….into the street!
Writers of history are planning how to forget you!
Your mouthpiece contradicts your true intentions!
Your judges are led unwillingly into the limelight!
Your cross reference is a broken place in history…

White Horse….into the street!
In times of tragedy great men rise they do not follow….
Your ear against the wall, eye in keyhole…
The fist of democracy is a pen in hand…
Not a loaded gun!

…into the street!
Lick the wounds of the faithful from bleeding hearts!
A question, a debate is not an act of treason!
We were there at the beginning, marching…
We were there at the beginning, questioning…



…into the street!
You manipulated facts like a pervert offering candy!
…into the street!
You let a name slip so no one would ever doubt you!
…into the street!
You secretly enjoyed the tragedies of those less fortunate!
…into the street!
Bombs dropped accidentally in self-rewarding places!
White Horse….into the street!
Face this fact-You do not truly deserve everything given to you.