WE WANT, AGAIN

We want to cry out,
but we have no words.

We want to scream
but all we give is silence.

We want to curse the invader
but cannot be heard
over the tanks, bombs
and rockets.

We want to mourn
but there are so many
innocents, where
do we begin?

We want to act,
but we are incapable
and can offer
only silent prayer.

ONE MORE

How many nails does
a simple coffin need?

They hammered another one
today, the largest yet.

We had invited them
to do so it seems.

We were upset by this
but there was nothing we
could really do except
call them out and threaten
to do what exactly
has never been clear.

So we are left to mourn
again the death, knowing
that there can be no
resurrection for Ukraine
and freedom itself
is a step closer to death.

WAR (an acrostic)

SOMETIMES A POEM CANNOT WAIT

From the moment it began, we knew, it was

obvious that peace and freedom were under assault,

Russia had thrown societal norms to the wind.

Under gunmetal gray skies they attacked by air,

killing women, children, destroying hospital, homes

raining hell on the innocents with nowhere to turn.

All we could do was watch, pray and offer paltry aid

in the hope that this proud nation could hold out

negotiate some sort of peace, maintain their freedom,

emerge like the phoenix slowly rising from the rubble.