Poem: Somewhere
Somewhere
Somewhere, a man woman or child carries a rifle
bazooka mortar handgun machine gun gleaming rifle
Insaned by death any death is a prize for death
Living in fear fear travels in all directions
No-one safe, for safety is a prize too precious
Peace the prize that brings death to death
And always reprisals are savage
Illogical, sudden, virulent, provoking, without forgiveness
And a small gun is a temptation
Justifying
The flesh and bones that hang from
A trembling heart.
This small gun is tiny, doesn't count,
Fits into a palm so well, almost not there.
Playing out slow-mo this mate, this
friendly, small so small handgun redeems the day
And the flesh and bones that hang quivering
Triumph over fear
bazooka mortar handgun
I fire again and again
Absolved
My fantasy temptation that revenges, protects, rescues
Everything
Except solemn truth.
At the moment of judgment,
A tunnel of metal points at me.
The dream says
Pray peace, or die in fear
Love ricochets across hearts in invisible ways
Breathe in, breathe out:
Hardest thought in the turning of doubt,
Death's deadly enemy —
Our steady breath of love.
Adrian Stevens