Today I would like to share a earlier poem as it speaks truly of the “horror” of war.


War is not glorious.
There are no heroes.
There is only the insanity
of killing for greed and power.

Body parts lie scattered
on fields of death
hands that will never again caress
feet that can no longer walk in fields of corn
faces twisted in eternal agony
stench of fresh blood, bowels emptied.

I do not want to hear songs
which tell the glory and honor of war.
Give me my husband next to me
on a cold winter night.
Let him swing his daughter high in the air
and hear her squeals of delight.
His mother’s sorrow matches my own
as we see his chair forever empty
at our table laden with his favorite food.

Be gone with men marching
to the cadence of drums beating
flags flapping, voices chanting
lies of war.
A baby lies silent along side
her mother, dog, grandmother
shattered like the walls of their home,
blasted by errant bombs
and uncaring men.

I will not even write of women
who participate in war
denying their life-giving essence.
How can you participate in taking lives,
when you are created to give life?

No, you will never convince me
that bombing schools, homes, hope
leads to peace.
Democracy, you shout, freedom!
Can we be free with
blood on our hands
and men returned
with shattered lives?

Let the billions of dollars
Spent on war clean up the slaughter
of generations of greed.
Shout, “No more!” loud and clear.
Pray that never again will a bomb
blast a family’s dreams and hope
for peace on Earth.

Let the bells toll in a new year
that heralds the end of wars
and the beginning of an earth
of untold beauty, love and Oneness.
This is my prayer, my dream, my cry.
Join my voice and sing of love
in a world that honors life.

Submitted to Cloaked Monk Challenge


Day 12 – Prompt: horror


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