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North American Dreaming: My Vestments

William Burkholder's poem emphasises that, like it or not, we are all affected by the world's troubles.

To read more of Bill's poems in Open Writing click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/north_american_dreaming/

And do please visit his Web site http://www.freewebs.com/nirvanasgate/index.htm

My vestments reek of worldly cares,
I have tarried too long
in affliction’s pit of pride and ego.
In my blind journey down the path of free will, I have not stumbled, but fallen, only to rise and fall again.

Tripping over didactic ideals
of societal compliance,
of war like, bayonet mindsets.
1 have not thrust the blade,
but my hands are bloodied none the less,
my lethargy the conveyance of the death blow.

An uncaring chromium blade sliding,
sliding into societies of those we as a people think less of.
Our silence to Darfur, Baghdad, Kabul,
To Detroit streets, LA gangs, 6th graders on crack... children with aides, starvation, deprivation, annihilation...

Yes, yes, my vestments reek of worldly cares,
and what is the scent of yours?

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