The Killing Fields

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This story has to be told in its most ugly fashion.... We cannot cover it up. We must paint these acts in their most horrific details. All the blood all the dismembered body parts, all the sorrow and all the pain. Only when we see these killing fields in their most disgusting, awful and gruesome details will we be inclined to do something. They must be seen in all their infectious manifestations and repeated to us daily. WE cannot become immune to this disease, for it is a disease that can be cured.

It has to be ugly.... So ugly you cannot stand it. So ugly you cannot forget it. So damn ugly it makes you ill.

I wrote this poem in September of 2019 with a one line addition for the mass killing that occurred in Atlanta this past week. It is a reflection of my thoughts and why we as a country can’t come to grips with even the slightest token of any reasonable gun control. I encourage all poets to write about these ugly scenes. It is our duty as well as our legislator’s duty to do something about it. What will you do when the gun is pointed at you?

Stepping across these bodies Makes me ill Pools of blood stitched In the soles of my shoes Body parts dripping from Walls where bullets passed She went to school that day Skipping and laughing along the way Gunfire from hell Unleashed in a fury of hate For no reason at all Convenient it seems Seven year old girl Face half gone Her mother weeps They did nothing Stepping across these lifeless forms Makes me ill Rivers of blood Stain the asphalt Two lovers embraced In death Bullets passed through Denying them life They went to a concert that day Joking and laughing along the way Gunfire from Hell Rang down from above For no reason at all Convenient it seems Their parents weep They did nothing Stepping across these mangled forms Makes me ill Bodies slumped over In wooden pews Riddled with bullet holes Bibles in their hands They went to pray to Jesus Thinking everything right Gunfire from hell The open front door All are welcome Convenient it seems Jesus weeps They did nothing Stepping across these mutilated forms Makes me ill Bleeding bodies Screaming kids Bisected limbs Coughing up blood It was their first date Popcorn and cokes Gunfire from hell Came from the stage door Down the aisles he strutted Convenient it seems Defying reason They did nothing Don’t you understand What doing nothing Has done? Complicit you are No leadership you show Your arrogance defies wisdom Don’t you give a damn? Maybe, if the dead Were one of yours? No?? I’m going to guess You’re too %*# vain Makes you guilty as well Stepping across these bodies These bodies covered in blood These bodies without faces Ties a knot Deep in my heart Makes me ill Blankets cover the dead We don’t have to look Yet we’re part of the scene Living in fear These killing fields Make me ill Another eight today

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L Milton Hankins

Date: 3/20/2021 12:44:00 PM

Oh Lon, you are so right. We must cry out in anger that nothing substantive has been done to deter these massacres. Thanks for using your pen so purposefully.

Lon Wartman
Date: 3/24/2021 5:32:00 AM

It is indeed a monumental task that we are up against. Can you believe that the guns that were used in these last two mass shootings were purchased just days before these horrific acts were committed. We all must rise and put our pens to the pads.