I’ll forever remember your hands
as they slide along the smooth metal.
Like an extension of a part of you
that you have touched a million times.
A directed movement without intention;
But filled with intensity.

Your stance conveys a confidence
that is absent in the life you inhabit.
You pretend to be human
until you step into this sanctuary.

This church where you worship is one of
bullets and defiance.
I close my eyes and I can smell the
gunpowder and sin that is uniquely you.
The commandments of this God
are etched on your mind.
Procedure drips from your skin like sweat.
You bleed accuracy and precision.

As you breath in the sites
I can see that you have settled.
Your universe has narrowed to
the target in front of you.
Five feet or a thousand
There is no difference.
The round is a slave to your movements
Your very will dictates his beginning and end.

When your finger squeezes the trigger
I know I have lost you.
The recoil is a natural motion;
Compensated for at birth and dismissed;
like breath expelling from your lungs.

I find that I am jealous of the trust you
have put in the round that has just left you.
You know where it is going;
And you show no surprise when it
follows your instructions exactly.

How could I ever understand you
the way this object does?
Inanimate to me;
But essential to you.
She is the wife;
And I the mistress.
For I may yet learn your mind;
But I can never inhabit your soul.

14OCT2029

War is Obsolete
by Michael R. Burch

War is obsolete;
even the strange machinery of dread
weeps for the child in the street
who cannot lift her head
to reprimand the Man
who failed to countermand
her soft defeat.

But war is obsolete;
even the cold robotic drone
that flies far overhead
has sense enough to moan
and shudder at her plight
(only men bereft of light
with hearts indurate stone
embrace war's arctic night).

For war is obsolete;
man's tribal gods, long dead,
have fled his awakening sight
while the true Sun, overhead,
has pity on her plight.
O sweet, precipitate Light! —
embrace her, reject the night
that leaves gentle changelings dead.

For each brute ancestor lies
with his totems and his "gods"
in the slavehold of premature night
that awaited him in his tomb;
while Love, the ancestral womb,
still longs to give birth to the Light.
Which child shall we ****** tonight,
or which Ares condemn to the gloom?

Keywords/Tags: war, children, violence, guns, war and peace, destiny,  god, gods, brute, brutality, ******

Shoot one in the air.
Scare the birds away.

I can never be timid
Start to the finish
Even through the blemishes, my heart is replenished
Violent images was somethin' in store
It's kinda heavy, holding steady
I'm ready for war
The confetti, a party time
I'm sorry, I apologized
It's obvious you ignored the truth
Just to acknowledge lies
And honestly this is a promise not a threat
So you better watch your comments
While your conscience is left
Forget the politics, the dollars in your wallet
Just know I'm coming home for everyone I have a problem with
Don't look astonished cause you knew that it was coming
You lookin' at me dumb
I suggest you start running
You can increase your pace
But I'm just chasin' you down
Losing patience, you blatantly choose breakin' the vows
Tomorrow isn't promised, and that's even if you live today
Watch what you say or someone's gonna need a grave

Look, I really can't pretend this time, I'm sorry Lord
But this time revenge is mine
So be afraid, because this is the big payback
For your charades, and every game you played
I can't believe you took my kindness for weakness
I've been gone for years but fear has got you speechless
So rest in peace, you're about to receive a secret
Your family is looking for authorities to speak with
You need luck cause right now life's lease is up
So keep it up, I'll be behind you creepin' up
The disconnect between us comes from disrespect
You better listen or your family will be missing next


Oh Lord here I come, I'm just holding on
A bullet is on its way
Tell the world I'm coming home
Someone's gonna need a grave