Look at me. See me


Look at me. See me.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

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War, what is good for? Nothing.

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Look at me. See me.

“President Trump pledged Thursday to keep the United States at the “top of the pack” in terms of nuclear weapons, expanding the nation’s nuclear arsenal if necessary and suggesting that changes to a treaty with Russia could be possible.”

“The United States and Russia together have more than 95 of all the nuclear weapons in the world,” she said. “We have more than enough nuclear weapons to destroy the world many times over.
“Each side currently has about 1500 strategic nukes,and if only 1 of these hits a nuclear power station its going to cause a chain reaction that would produce a huge nuclear explosion that would result in radioactive fallout and a Nuclear Winter that would take out the whole planet.

So,currently they can each destroy the world 1500 times over.”

Men who believe nuclear, bio and chemical warfare is the way to peace.  Are foolish. I have been told often. Less wars today than 2000 years ago. My answer is simple. Thank you dear God. Rome didn’t have a nuclear, bio or chemical weapon. If they did. Today there would be no Germany, no Scotland or Ireland. Rome decree the death of these nations. Rome, England and Spain worked hard to control their world. Today new weapons are deadly and have no conscience.

Look at me, see me

Soldiers fight, soldiers die.
Soldiers prayer and soldiers cry.

Old veterans don’t glorify war.
My father served in the Korea war and the Vietnam war.
He never spoke of either to me.
He didn’t want to stir-up the memories.
He was violence and dangerous.
War taught him how to kill.
He did.

My step-grandfather was in Europe and Germany from 1943-1946. A para-trooper.
He told me. He never saw combat. He found peace with God. He was a lucky one.
He learned to forget the war in real life.

In the taverns. Old veterans sit together. When the whiskey kicked in. They show real face and they told me. War is shit, war is just a shitty place to have known.

I sat  by grave of good friends. I talk to ghosts like my father did. I tell the lonely grave. I miss you my good friend and I hope you are alright. Your kids are strong and your grandchildren look like you.

Old veterans who are homeless and broke  sit on street corners. Ghost to most and invisible to our world. They whisper to unconcern people. Look at me. See me.

We don’t need new fancy weapons. We can destroy our world 3000 times and the old questions is asked. How many times do the leaders want to destroy our world? Only need one properly aimed nuclear weapon.

Dear children, my children and all children. Time to scream for peace or accept death.

“The world will end with a whisper,
not with a bang.”

John Castellenas/Coyote

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© 2017 Coyote Poetry

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