Islands Of Peace


There is sand in my ears

enough to build an Island.

I can not hear protesting

voices against the quickend

approach of the next and last

global holocaust. I need

to buy a new computer

and the baby looks good

in new shoes.


I pick out each grain of

sand but distraction; needs

to work, to live, to raise

kids, and pay bills dampen

and distort any semblance

of truth. I was educated

to follow quietly. 


I have become consumer, scourge

of nations. I am the objective

of ads, with mind altered for a

lifetime to proclaim and truly enjoy

the pretty coatings of empirial

wealth. The sand is loud 

teaching what I should desire

and possess. The sound crescendos

to a roar. I can not hear other

voices that plead or see the beggar

and the empty cup. Lies surround

me. Believe nothing but the sand.


Briefly, I hear the threat 

to every life, "Do not believe

what you see or hear or read."

The demise of oceans and seas,

the sky will turn into fire, but

pay no heed. The Earth is not

growing dark with death as it

erupts with the defiance of an

uncontrollable over-exploited



Definitions of power are shouted

in multiple articulations of need

to buy and sell; kept in control by 

empire in the shape of valid

historical forms of aggression. I

am the one who helps build and

defend the Island of sand that

puts back two grains for every one

I remove.







Author's Notes/Comments: 

We allow it. We should stop allowing the Earth's destruction and greed to define and ultimately destroy us.

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