One Day Sorrow Too Shall Sing

Somalia right now

you are my heart

a shrapnel punctured beating miracle of

coronary circulation with insufficient blood supply

absorbing climate change and inner turmoil

stretched limits beyond the care of nations as

drought dries your veins and children

dehydrated for want of water

while fossil fuels burn

our planet heaves and groans fumes

since the rains never came

and the crops failed

and the rivers dried

so the young die with old fight to beg life fading in their eyes

frontline child casualties borne 30+ years of inaction

during which companies amassed trillions for the sake of (_____)

*

and why the never leveled out ludicrous fuck is the economy

the sacrificial altar upon which all that lives

gets unwillingly slaughtered

blood chi chlorophyll oxygen brain fluid

to appease a gluttonous beast

spewing out cars factories cell phones clothes and office space

with shame a coat that doesn’t fit anymore

since the monster we allowed or created

glorifies supersized and the happy value meal

more than thriving rainforests or healthy oceans

instead of us beheading the diabolic gorge-fest of insatiable hunger

*

we must end this

*

Somalia the tears of sorrow stream

I would flood every day to water your fields

rid you of destruction doom and death that never had to happen

and there’s shit-all time left

for bureaucrats to build committees and plan meetings

while babies feed the earth with bodies of their dead resolve

just send water

by bucketful or barrel

gallons and kilos

mountain clouds so grey dark thick heavy with liquid life they barely hold

reminders to tree cattle shrub and bee

that love in this land

is no respecter of persons

and earth’s symphony needs all instruments present

for appointed times

to keep balance on its orbit

spellbinding tales into space

Somalia my song unsung

too long weighted with torture representing all who grieve

*

end this we must

*

the CO2 emissions-based economy model of greed over gratitude

finance over freedom

transactions over truth

budget over balance

profit over peace

*

would that I could tie it down

lips guzzle sucking at cobalt silicon and gold

cover its mocking eyes

ignore its struggles

then pass you the knife

and that freedom

truth

balance

peace day

mmm…

Sweet Somalia

shall we ever

sing the heck outta that song

Thank you for taking the time to read this poem.

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