sometimes

for the victims of the VT massacre...

i feel so cold, sometimes
when the harsh wind blows
i hold to what i know
and try not to show
that i'm frightened
by the passing storm
of rage

it terrifies me, sometimes
the lightning flash
a moment in time
that sears the soul
i fear to realize
humanities cursed fall
to mortality

i feel so numb, sometimes
when i see the scathing touch
of mankind's cruel stroke
of vile thirst for blood
stealing the very breath
from those who share
this life

i weep alone, sometimes
for the loss of it all
the innocence of childhood
falls to the torrents of evil
crowned on the brow of man
taking and ravaging all
that is pure

i pray aloud, sometimes
to god in utter awe
and fear of the one
that knows my thoughts
and sees my inner fear
to act upon the vile display
of discontent

i curse it all, sometimes
and despise the world
that maligns and kills
it's own beating heart
robbing history of new life
replacing the joy of youth
with sorrow

i reach in hope, sometimes
to grasp the reigns anew
to ride the winds of change
in peaceful freedoms way
man's potential fulfilled
refreshed and renewed
in god's grace

© 2007 BY W. GARY FORRESTER

and so it goes

In memorial

Kurt Vonnegut

11/11/1922 - 04/11/2007

another war today began
and so it goes

innocent death at the hands of man
and so it goes

justice lives where no man stands
and so it goes

injustice lives in violent bands
and so it goes

we crush the life of innocent hands
and so it goes

scourge the peace across the land
and so it goes

putrid stench of deadly strands
and so it goes

in horrid stance the blood flow ran
and so it goes

death continues at man's awful hands
and so it goes

the poet sings and screams again
and so it goes

lives and dies while in the end still stands
and so it goes

© 2007 BY W. GARY FORRESTER

peace

i tire of the day that's filled with hate
that tears at the soul of mankind's fate
weeping in the moment of a deadly state
aware of every malevolent slate
mourning the bloodshed of violence innate
praying for peace too late
too late

i die a little in a daily dirge
i witness the potent malfeasant surge
the call for death delivered at the urge
of the warmongering moronic call to purge
the evil of misunderstood forsaken curse
driven by the strings of the purse
the purse

i cry for all in dire repose
to reach for another embracing those
whose pained existence for calamity arose
to strike at what insecurity exposed
as vile ungodly threats composed
of wealth that greed sows
that greed sows

i strive to lay my soul in peace
to live in love with all who lease
breath from the source of life's release
longing to hold in arms of love i reach
to them that my calm would breach
in longing hope for peace to teach
for peace to teach

© 2007 BY W. GARY FORRESTER