John-Ward Leighton


John-Ward Leighton: Beautiful Downtown Gaza
Photo: ©Copyright by John-Ward Leighton
Jazz in my ear hole
and the white snow of God
covers my invisible sins for this day.
All the while those sins of yesterday
have come out for their deadly play.
My gut is in an uproar
as those that watch rain death
in that unholy land.
I try to escape my feeling of doom
in the sanctuary of my
snow covered room.
In a new year burdened
with the sins of the past
one wonders how long
our relative peace will last.
The bombs fall
from the sky
or are walked through the door
by some fanatic
willing to kill so they can meet god when they die.
The terror of the poem
will surely come here in the guise of love.
Love for something that doesn’t exist
now isn’t that a bitter ironic twist.
They will scream
“God is Great”
and profess their undying love
but it matters not
when the bombs explode
when push has finally come to deadly shove.
Then grief, that sorrow loving thief
armed with rage and hate
will set the clock of everyone’s fate.
Things are gonna slide
because there is no place where we can hide.
You can
run, run, run,
but you can’t outrun a bomb or a gun
anymore than screaming on a beach
can stop the tide.
All the bombs and artillery shells
turning lives into collective hells
the screams of the funeral marches
in the bomb wrecked plaza,
a bloody snow storm of hate and grief
beautiful downtown Gaza.