Category Archives: Death

November

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It's November
It's quieter
Much is golden
It's beautiful

Everything is dying
It's quieter
Much is older
It's beautiful

I'm sitting more
I'm quieter
I'm older
Much is broken
Much is forgotten
I'm beautiful

© Keely Myles
November 2, 2015
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Final Flight

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I got lost
In a four-poster bed
And while I
Rested wept and watched
The oceans long fingers
Play music along the shore
I noticed a single feather
Twitching clinging sticky
To the window
And I knew
Some little one
Had died
I went outside
Made a circumference
Of the house
And sure as
The sky was blue
A darkened junco
Laid legs up
Eyes closed
Stiff upon the
Frozen ground
So I did the thing
That seemed best
I picked him up
dark feathered head
With my leathered hands
And made my way down
To where I still
Heard music
And let his final flight
Be a part of
The bluest symphony

© Keely Myles
November 2014

Thoughts on war

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Thoughts on war,
And bombs,
And killing…
When we
Do this
We are
Never winning!
How could
Stooping to
Such depravity
Ever be
An answer actually?
It costs
So much,
Bazillions of dollars,
To build weapons
That don’t
Make us smarter,
But rather
Harm us
Over and over.
And honestly,
As a mother,
I’ve begun
To wonder
How come
We haven’t come up
With some way
Stronger
To bring peace?
I’m not down
With old solutions
Any longer.
Seriously, cartoons
For kids have
Taught me more
Creatively to deal
With these messes.
With all that money,
Let’s try
Something else
To stop the
Stupid tantrums
Of grown men.
For goodness sake,
Someone give
Them a time-out
Before the whole world
Becomes a battleground.
Like how about
An airdropped dome
That covers over
War zones,
Then squeezes out
Jelly or foam
That slows down
All trigger fingers
And silences guns…
How about a
Rebounding rubber wall
That deflects ammunitions
And ricochets bullets
Back upon them all.
If they insist on
Firing bombs and shells,
They’ll only end up
Hurting themselves…
Or perhaps
A shower of sleepy rain,
To put to bed
All those mean,
So they can be
Handcuffed
And detained
And get reeducated
Before or if
They ever get
To leave again…
Or maybe we
Could drop a zillion
Love letters,
To tell enemies
Of a life that’s better…
Could it be
That these we fear
Really need love
Not bloodshed?
Perhaps a tank
Built indestructible
Moves in and
Plays something musical
That sings of
Hope and harmony,
And brings balloons
And cotton candy…
Perhaps we need
Some sort of
Super suit that
Spits out goop
To slip up those
Who try to shoot,
And guns that
Blasts out bubblegum…
Maybe you can
Think of ways
That could work
And still be fun?
Seriously, I’m sick
Of pointless war,
And doubly so
Over options
Unexplored.
Doubtlessly, it
Should be asked
Of our kids,
How we could
Better handle it?
Because I’m certain
They’ve got the
Bright ideas
That could
Cease all fire
And return all peace.
Perhaps I’m just
A pacifist,
Or maybe I’m
An optimist
To think that
Terror groups
That threaten
Could be stopped
With happier and
Less costly methods.
I don’t mean
To belittle
The sacrifice
Of men who
Already laid down
Their lives
Using the only
Methods known
To them then,
But can’t we
Perhaps progress
Further than
Where they left off,
To see a
Better end
Than death
And death
And death
And death…?
There’s just got
To be a kinder way.
At least that’s
What I hope
And suggest today.
Two wrongs never
Make it right!
I just want to
Offer love,
Love,
And love,
Love is the answer
To stop all fight.

© Keely Myles
March 2, 2015

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.” ~Matthew 5:43-45 (Jesus)

“He shall judge between the nations,
    and shall decide disputes for many peoples;
and they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
    and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
    neither shall they learn war anymore.” ~Isaiah 2:4

Machines

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These machines of men
These machines of men
Who will be accountable for
These machines of men?

They’ve had their fun
They have played pretend
But who’s accountable for
These machines of men?

We have killed each other
We have heaped the dead
Who’s accountable for
The machines of men?

There’s no way to count
The atrocities of sin
God, who’s accountable for
The machines of men?

There is so much damage
When will it end?
Tell me who is accountable for
The machines of men?

When will we see innocence
And true love reign?
The children have suffered
The machines of men?

We’ve had enough now
Of the war and pain.
There must be a stop to
The machines of men!

Eternal God, please
Come again, and
Unleash Your vengeance on
The machines of men!

© Keely Myles 2013

First Frost

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The first frost kissed me
 Gently from my sleep
 His white, cold touch
 Brought remembrances
 Of one I loved so much
 The morning filled my day
 With chills of him
 Him who never was
 His face stayed crisply
 In my mind again and again
 Until the moon returned and
 The snowy owl up and flew away
© Keely Myles
 November 11, 2014