For Jack London “Just meat.”


Just meat and tales of kisses

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

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Quotes from Jack London book “When God laughs”

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“Well, I have. He was like this beefsteak. You an’ me is eatin’. It was once steer cavortin’ over the landscape. But now it’s just meat. That’s all, just meat. An’ that’s what you an’ me an’ all people come to-meat.”
Jack London

He gathered her into his arms and kissed her. “I wish it were the custom,” she said in a faint voice, from the midst of the embrace, “because then I’d have to marry you, Ned… dear…wouldn’t I?”
Jack London

Just meat and tales of kisses

Civil men are few.
True leader stand for the right things.
Will not accept self-gain and profit.
Bought men are crooks  with fake smiles.
Liars and thieves will pay for their action in hell.

Silence, calm and peace should be the night for all children.
No child should know the sound of war.  The fear of surviving the night and to live
in the violence of war always near.

Old men told me. The soldiers are just meat for the profit of war. Dead on dead. The
wars will never end. We are just meat for the hatred of man.

Soldiers who instruct the new soldiers have great responsibility. They are training soldiers
how to fight and survive in combat. I saw the old NCO(non-commission officers) who felt
the pain of losing soldiers to war. A instructor teaches every soldier to be a leader. He must
teach the young men and woman the lessons of war, death and misery before it is real.

Pretty girl hold and kisses her departing Soldier. She whispered this kiss is a promise. A promise
of more. Please come home to me.

One last fight. A man won’t rest till he had nothing left.
No sweeter word than home.
Nothing as beautiful and wonderful as woman with open arms.
Welcoming you back from hell to heaven with one sweet kiss.

Is all life just meat?
I did not  know kisses are promises.

When rich men in Washington D.C send young men to police a world who do not
desire our help. Maybe Jack London told us the truth. Men are just meat for the profit
of war and life?

Coyote

© 2013 Coyote Poetry