Sunday, February 5, 2012

My Dream by Bob Atkinson


My Dream
(c)2012 Bob Atkinson

my dream is of a country
of many different ways
that which is different
that which is the same

that which gives
and that which takes
and that which lays out strong
pretty cities in vast flat valleys
clearly flowing water falls

deep harbors at her oceans
where ships come and go
to transfer our great wisdom
to so many other folks

that which we conquer
because of who we are
proves we are responsible
top dogs and best at arts

my dream is that we become
not dependent upon the chance
for storm and ice and heat of night
to break our brothers' backs

my dream is that we
not fight to prove who's right
killing persons should hold horror
not fists held to the sky

those awful sinful motives
false justification for wrong lives
props up the cycle of violence
that brings misery to all eyes

if selfish in our actions
by giving power only to our bands
we find we have retreated
in our desire to hold good stand

this takes us back to the primitive
and preys upon those falsehoods
some teach to their own kind
raising useless little broods

my dream holds that we
build cities that will last
tall and long which connect together
other towns within our lands

let them not rise above
ugly streets paved with black asphalt
with lines of power strung as if
like a frayed wicker basket

spires are not well thought out
take so much to time to build
they give us not the beauty
or function we need shining through

if we build the better way
we can organize
a country where all the lands
reach for all outstretched hands

long, along the highways
nearly high up to the clouds
our cities need reach to the east
and west at the same time

trains held within their ribbons
that give all access to
everyone so we can feel harmony
if that's what we want to do

let the rocks fall on our heads
let the ocean waves
wash ashore in high shelves
our lives will be the same

because we have learned
barbarity isn't pride
spitting into faces prompts
sadness in all our lives

we should find it isn't right
to kill those whom we oppose
while licking our own wounds
sitting in our rubbled homes

why not join together?
in desires as exposed
building lives of peaceful dreams
the good life for all we know

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