Poetry

by Doug Soderstrom

For What Good is Life

For what good is life
if one must kill
in order
to preserve it?

Like lilies of the field
we cut them down
in order to preserve
their charm.

The folly of believing
that one
can exist
without the other.

That one’s breathing in
can be maintained
in the absence of another
breathing out.

That breath
is not
a gift
from God.

Recklessly denying
that in killing our foe
we have chosen death
rather than life.

That in killing
those who we hate
we have proven that we
do not love God. 


A Weed Blown in the Wind

A weed blown
in the wind.

Hemmed in
on
all sides
by
a vast
expanse
of structures…..
monuments
to mankind.

An outcast
thrown
to the side.

A fine
young
man
a misfit
an alien
outsider
attacked
and
beaten
by
bigots.

God’s
beauty
hidden by
things
man-made.

A man’s
beauty
hidden by
a man-made
God.

A cemetery
a grave
a weed.


What’ll We Do

What’ll we do,
When there’s no water,
To draw from the well,
Only dry bones,
Loose skin,
And a mind,
That wanders,
Into the vast expanse?

Once a virtual,
Reservoir of knowledge,
A depth of understanding,
Nimble and quick,
Johnny on the spot,
Always on topic,
Clever,
Funny,
And very good,
With numbers.

There was,
A lot of,
Hugging,
Laughing,
Kidding,
Joking,

Playing,
Touching,
Kissing,
And loving.

But,
Now,
Things are,
Quite different,
There are,
No more theories,
No more wild ideas,
No more stories,
No more jokes,
No more puns,
Very few,
If any,
Thoughts,
And almost,
No memories,
At all.

Hugging…… yes,
But dad,
Doesn’t know how,
To hug back,
And it’s,
The same,
With kissing,
There’s not much,
Laughing,
Or playing,
Either,
Loving,
Well……yes,
But it’s,
Just not the same,
I guess,
When you,
Get down to it,
Nothing’s the same,
Anymore.

So,
What’ll we do,
What shall we do?