in my shower
For what seemed
For the love
that was lost
As I counted
In souls …
Of the ways
and the means
In which we
Author’s Note: Inspired by the announcement regarding the
death of Bin Laden. Don’t get me wrong. I realize hard
choices must be made to stop this reign of terror.
Yet, I am hard pressed to be comfortable in situations where
we celebrate the killing of another. It must be the poet in me;
there is something about it that saddens me……..
And that is not a political statement, but a human one.
I pray I’m not the only one to feel a momentary sense of unease
when a life is taken (regardless of circumstance).
“Every mans death diminishes me, therefore never send
to know for whom the bell tolls … it tolls for thee…”
Barry DeCarli said:
Hi, I particularly like this poem’s sentiment. I was disturbed by the reaction in this country and wrote my poem from that viewpoint. I often think of a photo in the paper shortly after 9/11 of some young women holding a sign that read “Our Grief Is Not A Cry For War.” It might have been a “Call” for war.
Found you through the Poetry Day Poem. I am enjoying your writing this morning. I like your story about your father’s hearing and how you have discovered that in yourself.
a death in Pakistan
who cringes from the clamor of this wild chant
that treats this Special Ops killing
like a long sought World Cup victory
who is unable to kindle enthusiasm
for this death
while agreeing he should be dead
knowing that some justice had been exacted
who is uncomfortable with the clamorous shouting
USA USA USA
who is repulsed by the bravado, the machismo
the in-your-face, bring-it-on arrogance
who can conjure an image of college students, waitresses and firemen
parading in the street, swaggering with his bloody head on a stick
who can not feel relief
in this death or in this display of frenzied pride
while girding for the explosive aftermath to come
May 4, 2011
Copyright 2011 Barry DeCarli
If we celebrate the death of another just because he hurt us, then we are no better. Although I find it hard to remember sometimes, when someone is hurtful to me, that is their kharma. It isn’t mine until I am moved to return cruel for cruel. The best we (as people or a country) can do is turn away – and pray for their blessing. Thank you, Barry. Your work is indeed inspired. – Bobbie
Barry DeCarli said:
Thank you, Bobbie. I agree. I also appreciate your kind words about my poem. That means a lot to me. -Barry