Imagine (poem)

Here’s a new poem for your consideration. There isn’t really a need for much explanation here, at least, I hope there isn’t that much need for any … so long as you haven’t been living in a cave for the past 11 years, you probably won’t have any difficulties understanding the allusions that I’ve made in this poem. On the other hand, if you don’t understand it … it means one of two things: the poem is a failure or … you’ve been living in a cave for the past 11 years (and/or are hopelessly out of touch with the way things are transmitted by the 4th Estate … but, I could be wrong …).

Regardless, I do hope you enjoy – or appreciate – this short poem and, as always, I appreciate all (non-spam) comments and endeavour to respond to all – as well as checking out your websites (when you include them).



The cries echo in the streets
made dusty by the years of war
craters churning up dirt
depleted uranium shells
covering the landscape
burning through genetic connections
searing the DNA of children
foraging in the streets
begging for food from passing soldiers
found toys
made from discarded pieces of militaria
scattered amongst untold numbers of lost childhoods
countless lives destroyed
displaced if not completely reduced
from ashes on ashes
to dust permeating everything
dust in everything

intermingled generations left gasping for breath
as a nation is ground into the dust
bombed into the middle ages by a nation
far more advanced
better equipped
with unlimited funding,
or so it would seem
while many children
go to sleep at night
with empty stomachs …
in America
just like they do in
Afghanistan or
Somalia or
how many other places
around the world
so many of which are ignored by the press
by the government
with nothing to gain from helping them
we don’t even hear about their struggles
lest our consciences be pricked by such images
spurring us off our apathy by triggering
compassion for others
(even while bombs continue to fall a world away)
feelings for people we do not know
compassion flowing from hardened hearts
to save the lives of the innocent
while instead our leaders commit to spend
obscene amounts of money
on wars and rumours of war,
on maintaining their battle against terrorists
who are still playing
with toys in the dust.

Copyright (c) by Peter Amsel (Aufzuleiden). Creative Commons Fair Use License Applied.

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4 Responses to “Imagine (poem)”

  1. Seymour Vaulx Says:

    You are a very clever person!

  2. aufzuleiden Says:

    Well thank you, Seymour, I appreciate that … really, I do. 🙂

  3. Sharp Little Pencil Says:

    Peter, YES! This is written with an activist’s heart. The children playing with toys in the dust vs the warmongers who play with much more sophisticated “toys.” Incredible to believe that a country such as ours could sink so low that there are families living in cars because someone got sick… lost their house because the greedy corporations bribed politicians to shred the banking legislation put in place by FDR… even members of the Supreme Court (the conservatives, that is) have shamelessly boarded the Koch Bros. yachts and attended extensive, expensive getaways… only to come back and rule that “corporations are people.” My God, Peter, you put them through the shredder here, and good for you!! I loved it, every word. Amy

  4. aufzuleiden Says:

    Thank you for your comment, Amy – I really appreciate it. Yes, I’ve definitely been getting more in touch with my ‘activist’ nature – something that I’ve allowed to be hidden (to some extent, in my writing) for quite some time. The main reason has been my music – not that I’ve been spending too much time on it, which I have been, but because I’ve fallen into that trap (lie) that composers shouldn’t be too controversial … we shouldn’t be overtly political … we shouldn’t be shit disturbers. Well, I’ve decided that the only problem with that is it isn’t true to who I am – I was raised as a political individual and the ideas I have are very much a part of who I am as an individual.

    While you may sense some anger in the text I can assure you that isn’t what I’m trying to portray – the writing is much more cathartic than anything else – rage may be a good fuel for some things, but I find it doesn’t work well as an inspiration for (my) creative endeavours.

    Regardless of all that, I’m very pleased that you enjoyed the poem – thank you very much – please come back!

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