BELIEVE (for a free Libya)

His breath is the gas of a devil.
His eyes burn into our dreams.
His lies have perverted the truth.
His hands have defiled his own people.
His words have infested our minds.
His rats pour out from his belly,
Stinking and foul and diseased.

Your faith will eventually kill,
This beast who has raped and devoured,
Enjoying the wounds that he makes.
Your strength will defeat his defiance.
Your fears can then be replaced,
By the healing and feeling it takes,
To rebuild and to love and believe.              © Will Barton 2011


There is a pointless opposition
Between action and consequence.
But to equate the two would be to commit
A negligence of calculation.
To imprison a solution
In a madness of mechanisms.
Like trying to look at stars
Through shattered prisms.
It would be an intrusion and illusion,
Splattered with delusion.
But what sadness would be left ?
Like the wives of soldiers are bereft,
When news of death
Is dressed up and presented,
Leaving them demented.
Their pride is a kind of solace
But inside they are weeping.
Emotions in safekeeping.
For another time,
In some lonely place,
Where dark and cold,
They seek the answer
To the calculation.             © Will Barton 2010


I know,
That on this beach,
There is a stone,
Which has your eyes.
I finger the shoreline,
Like it is a deckled edge.
Sifting the day’s catch,
Hoping to find you,
Watching me.           © Will Barton 2009


Love and hate,
Those smirking fiends,
Disguise their insolence
In enigmatic smiles.
They are a masterpiece
Of contorted portraiture.
Framed to flatter.
But in the mirror,
Their fawning farce,
Reflects the cracks
And fiction of the face.
It is their embrace,
With heads caressed,
Expressions hidden
In the huddle,
Of this mocking cuddle.
Which reveals,
The truly contradictory state,
Of love and hate.                         © Will Barton 2009