Something there is that doesn’t love a “Civil War.”
(As though War could ever be Civil.)
And, speaking of Love…
Love, of course, is a major casualty of war.
For every person killed, there are friends and families
Who suffer the pain of loves lost as well.
Check your local listings …
There may be a “friends and family” discount!
And, speaking of truth…
“Truth is the first casualty of war.”
So they say.
And, what do liars hope to gain by war?
I think they like to say:
“Truth is the first casualty of war”
“This is war! Of course, we lie!”
But you see, that is just exactly the delicious irony.
War doesn’t kill truth.
No, not at all.
War doesn’t kill truth.
Truth remains truth.
The earth still revolves around the sun
No matter how many you kill who say so.
It kills people just as dead no matter how many liars scream
Or how loudly they scream,
That it’s just a bad dream.
What dies is not truth, but honesty.
The aggressors tell lies to start the wars.
The defenders tell lies to escape the aggressors.
All the time-energy-money that could have gone to
Discover more truth
To save lives
To make lives richer
That energy-work-thought is directed instead to killing other human beings.
Because, as you probably know,
(But maybe were conveniently trying to forget),
It isn’t only soldiers who die in war.
As though twenty million soldiers were not enough,
WWII killed forty million civilians too.
You may know some civilians yourself:
Grandmothers, toddlers, babies, mothers, nurses,
Oh, look, there’s one now!
A guy putting gas in his car.
A fit-looking woman jogging.
Oh, look! There’s another — two actually.
A grandmother, I’d say, pushing her granddaughter in a stroller.
It’s so hard to count the dead accurately
And, God knows, we need to know accurately.
Did only a little over 600,000 Americans die in our Civil War?
Or was it really more like 750,000?
We really need to know.
After all, if it is merely 618,000 dead,
What’s the big deal?
“In Flanders Field the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row.”
“Between the crosses.”
Nice line, that.
No more “Golden Rule”
“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
A rule that’s meant for your grandpa’s time!
A modern rhyme
Much more sublime
Would keep the label but
Cut out and then replace the gut:
“Do unto others to maximize the profit!”
What matter if we come to kill
All the sneetches
On all the world’s beaches?
Our ROI will top the sky!
And I will be the richest guy!
Even into space I’ll fly!
The buzzing of the liar’s lies,
Will be replaced by flocking flies,
Humanity, they’ll maggotize.
I think the trees won’t be surprised.
It is the fate hypothesized.
Our greedy branch grew oversized.
Yet Fate can turn upon a dime.
We need not slide into the slime.
Nor worship sin, corruption, crime.
Take a minute; take a day.
Take the time to love and play.
Just let the hateful — slip away.
In Flanders Field the Poppies blow
They have a message: “Let us grow.”
Enough of war. Let heart love glow.
Enough of lies. Help truth to flow.
And, be sure to see Guernica.