Homicidal arguments

Homicidal arguments,

discussed with truncheons and baseball bats,

snide remarks replied to with rocks and bullets,

Indifference replied to with hatred?

Can you stop long enough to understand,

when mobs run everywhere through the land?

When jackboots replace soft leather shoes?

and guns become the businessmans new wares?

When we whore our mercenaries?

Prostitute our loves?

When we only care as long as it serves our business?

When we wonder why the spurned demand attention,

And the guns we gave them, are aimed at us?

What freinds are we when we feel bitterness and seek revenge?

What peacefulness do we have inside our hearts?

Where is that expansiveness, when the world is imploding?

Where is the love, when our homes are exploding?

The bitter bile in our mouths is from our own insides.

The acrid smoke is our burning home.

Too long we played with snakes and adders.

Too long we lived with scorpions and spiders.

The Towers were on fire, the whole damn time.

We just accepted the delusion, refused the offered toys.

And yet still we continue to argue the play.

To cut shorter our already short day.

Chris Holte, September 19 2001

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