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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The surgeon generals are scalpel meeting once again Fear doktors of war are planning to raise another mar on Earth’s topographical skin Pigmented epidermal cells are being prosperity lullabied put to sleep under the celestial lights Souls with eyes and minds closed — their ears tingle lustily, hearing cash pillow talk on poverty sheets But, the gorgeous planetary patient has no operating room human rights Oh, such an awful terrestrial plight! Yet, the view from the firmament heights show another picture of love from above No stitches are seen on the sky blue-eye, brown skin beauty Regal global queen, daughter of the Lunar tides, your disfigurement is a cosmic shame Moon princess, Snow White seasonal changeling, the galloping Four Horsemen are coming upon the dispossessing gale wind to trample upon your perfect facial contours again Hazel spring eyes, with a cerulean crown over her cloud-colored wedding veil She wears such a Polar aurora adorable, pristine mountainous gown But the Jekyll dogs of war are viciously on the shadow Hyde, waiting to gnash another canine needle into your verdant cheek vale fertility Upon an evergreen face does not one strand of virgin forest hair stand out of winter place Until the anaesthesia bombs needle drop to pockmark your oasis skin ... and the monstrous dissection begins Bloody butchers bullet love slaughterhouse flaying Stitching border sutures ... raised-flag lines that are ever changing As the summer fruits of world peace are no longer autumn falling Cris-cross scissor map marks have so money land-lust sullied your timeless beauty A planetary Bride of Frankenstein is now your geo-political, laboratory scarred destiny And I’m afraid to experimentally speak: more stitches are soon forthcoming Yet, from high above, tho’ I hear the negotiating table scalpel scrapes ... I see no ugly stitches on your indigo beautiful oceanic face
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