Syrian Rebel in Damascus
Photo by AP
From abcnews.go.com
just how much sand
does it take to absorb
burning wadis of blood
flaming reddish-black
rivers of vengeance
flowing down from
the centuries following
caravan routes through
a desert that wants
no American peace
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
flights of fancy from New Zealand
You're never alone, if you've something to share
All you touch and all you see / is all your life will ever be
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...
rejuvenatement - not retirement
Poesy plus Polemics 
How many more to die.. and stain sands with blood
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too many
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Brilliant… So pleased you shared this.
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thank you most kindly
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You’re very welcome!
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very powerful and poignant! how much sand indeed?
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appreciate your reading and commenting
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Ooooh, wowza. You do this so brilliantly.
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thanks from the heart
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Indeed 🙂
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thanks, kindly
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Reblogged this on Poesy plus Polemics.
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The last line says it all – however well intended there can I believe only be evolved peace and such a peace is on the back of dead bodies. Sad old world notwithstanding your most excellent perspective through poetry.
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all the more reason to try and make it less sad
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AMEN brother. I have always said, we have no right to impose our political beliefs on people half way around the world who do not agree with them in the first place. that is as much political rhetoric as I will dive into tho. Great Poem!!!
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okay – no politics – thanks
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agreed, I tend to glaze over
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Tell that to the little Afghan girls who would get killed when they went to school by the taliban…..how much sand, I can tell you because I myself have tasted it. It is a volunteer, I was a volunteer, adrenaline, pay, it was in my early twenties, I loved my job and my fellow coworkers. I left the sand, and there will be generations to come after me to do that job, unless you finally realise when the shit really hits the fan and there is a 3 WW and you people won´t need guys like me or my friends who went there volunteer, you would be drafter. like it or not there has to be a top dog on the block, there has always been and there will always be, human nature and Countries nature. We still don´t live in wonderland and never will. So I ate my sand, and the turn for others as tragic as it is it is necessary. And that is reality.
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perhaps you misunderstand, charly – I agree with you
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So I definitely misunderstood then.
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Reblogged this on OUR POETRY CORNER.
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thank you for sharing my poem with your readers
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The last 2 lines are the piercing capper (you should send this as a memo to Washington).
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don’t believe they can read
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Oh that’s right, I forgot.
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