TheBanyanTree: My Protest

[R J Fernalld]

This is my protest. This is my voice. This is my rage....R J Fernalld

Take the Field

Send not my sons to war for thy politics. 
Rattle thy self serving saber elsewhere. 
Bloodthirsty hawk are thee, armed with 
billowing flags, and anthems of homicidal rhetoric.
Who art thou to kill my sons, man? 
What reason hast thou for this lunacy? 
Is there never to be enough blood shed for nothing? 
Must thou again spill everyone's but thine own?

Then lead my son to thy battle in person! 
Strap the M16 to thy wrinkled carcass 
and mount thy hummer, come face to face with
the horror thou envision in glorious dreams of 
future textbooks that praise thy name...
Take the field! I dare thee, great man of words. 
Bleed with my sons, fear the howl of thy friend
in the night as he lay dying for thee. 

Carry the first lady's photo in thy khakis 
pray that God will keep her safe 
should thee take a bullet for my son.
Take thy cronies for thy  battalion,
take thy seal for thy banner,
let thy oath of office be thy battle cry.
Sit not safe in a house of white, as my sons die.

Thine enemy is he whom thy father fought.
Stir up more enemies, proud son, and they will
band together to vanquish thee. Sheathe thy
petty saber. Kill no more sons for thy legacy.
If thou must lust for war, so be it. Take the field!
I dare thee, great man of words. 
Bleed with my sons and fear the howl 
in the night as they lay dying for thee. 

copyright R J Fernalld 2003