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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

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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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.
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Wartman Avatar
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.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things