…in a silent way… our soldiers continue to be empowered with certain inalienable abilities to send the innocent to their graves…and the powers who move the chess pieces from ivory towered-incantations of a warped constitution, smile, letting the crude oil slip from their lips …wishing that the universe itself… could be dominated so easily as we. And this is no mode to express racism or Indoctrinations of a civilized barbarism …but truth, these days, has never looked so ugly, mauled by the canines, left for dead, being cheered by the numerous votes dialed in by toll-free numbers, electing this marred truth as the new American idol. …and we protest with masks and slogans… …we combine on weekends and dance awkwardly to the war drums… …wanting to make our choreography move towards peace. the gods smile down on us, watching our disgruntled, esoteric chariots race towards yet another war…they smile, knowing our time is soon up. their dimples, dimensions away, bloom at the sight of our own defeat, knowing that we can never advance beyond the lust for blood, our bodies trembling from the orgasmic trials of causing our deaths …and convincing ourselves that it is the right thing to do. …a tyrant is chameleon, with his religion of choice dangling around his neck, and he so proudly proclaims genocide in his deity’s name, praying for asunder, falling to his knees for power, and pointing fingers towards another, in a calculated plan to deflect attention away from his wayward indiscretions as leader, general and model citizen. This, lovers and poets, is the day of our lives. And the day is running long…dreading what the night will surely bring In order to right the wrong his day-sister has wrought. This is a dangerous time. Because the silence of our disdain, the Ease of how we digest rhetoric without challenge …will leave our children wondering, where was the bravery when our ancestors scorched the possibility of hope? And we would have failed them …and the generation next, who will be born into a nexus of dead bodies walking …and potential poems erased. …in a silent way… the gods smile …and wait for us to gag on the nothingness of our voices’ sound… they wait …inside the silence of our own design and demise… ?