The Green Path

Sometimes I wish I could say the words that we could all understand.
Words that mothers have always known.
Words that young boys learn from loving mothers and teachers.
Words that older boys put aside when they see the reality of death.
They put their mothers dreams aside and dig in the ashen pits of society.
Women did understand the sixties; they have always known the word peace.
This is something I see everyday. Women have always understood.
Weapons of war surround our world; picket fences of weapons surround our planet.
We are just one moment away from insanity.
A veiled threat, dogs bark as we approach the fences, we stand back, we know of the ashes that can cover our planet.
Cancer seeps from the earth, we are too late.
Under the tall stainless steel turrets an unseen vapor corrodes our minds and imbeds itself into our pores.
This kills our bodies with slow unyielding/unknown/unseen corrosion.
The green voices speak loudly. They post signs along the road.
There is too much pleasure to listen.
The six year old listens and soon forgets.
We all know the path.
Someone would like to push all sound away from the masses.
They say that all words that are written should be cleaned and sifted, so that only the pure would only be read.
Cut all the emotions to bare clear thought, cut all the email philosophies.
Save us all from the boring creations of the masses.
They say it would only let the cream come to the top, letting the driftwood go into the discarded piles of crap.
Save us all from the boring trivial emotions of creative thought.
Let the people that know sift us, let us know what we should know, save us from numb dumb dumb.
Oh why are we so serious?
Why all the doom and gloom?
Lets just remember the day, today is someone’s birthday, a day to celebrate our birth.
A day to remember how clean the air is after a rain.
Have a nice day.

Words & Graphics by Tomas