Deadly Poetry

This poetry is a deadly art and
not for the faint-hearted.

You think it's easily
to reach for gossamer
when the world rains down
its steel?

When all you want is a truncheon
to break across the bow
of a criminally acting world?

We arm our hearts but the poetry
demands one better:
to drop the spike and pick up words
and lay them down with love.

It's not for want of anger
that we write out gentle lines.
It's not for want of change
or quiet burning rage.

But the poetry demands one better.

To look within and find your heart,
to raise that up and set that down,
to line a path beyond the hate
to where the fields grow green.