INTELLECT OF PEACE
When the flight of man's intelligence sets upon its zenith,
And blasts its brilliance on the menace of ignorance,
No longer will dreams of harmony fetch fright
And the penance of peace its silence.
Oh once imprisoned peace! Spread the blossoms of your presence
And let the breath of all scroll your incense.

Whenever the folly of feud ferments its potions,
Where the lustre of intellect is rusted dull,
Oh peace! Pierce the conscience of opinion the vastness of options,
Adorn upon it your diadem of wisdom full
To clear the reedy mind and set truth its path
So that purity is rightly restored to thought.

Should tribalism strive to steal tranquil,
Let intellect delve the dermis, under into the arteries,
And stun the tyrants with its natural hue fill,
Like on dark clouds, the boisterous breeze
Rips apart their murky intent,
Ushering the eyes to perceive clear the human content.

And when the curse of commerce's legacies
Grips the penniless its subhuman honour
Amid skillful illusions of senseless odysseys,
Let intelligence embrace extravagance, The Mother
Of cold Hunger, befriend her, temper the coffers
In her breasts to teem treasures, so none suffers.

Thence, the horizon o'er where darkness preys
On mankind, lucent intellect will dawn its prongs,
Razing the rungs strung by agonies with prized days,
And beauteous peace will tutor the tongues of man its songs
The joyous victories o'er yester sorrows,
And yes, bliss has dismissed penance the hour we arose.

        War
The wrath of War wrestles to weaken wisdom,
Its call careth not compassion, but to condemn.
Harden hearts throb to hearken hell's humour,
That the glory of gory greatness in grandeur
Sanctions the passion to specter all a horrific profusion:
What man, his habitations, and happiness thrives upon,
To butcher with bitter blind bravery till bare,
The sweet sanguine songs of existence care.

When at dawn War dresses its sharp dagger,
To the dust till dusk sinks needless slaughter.
At the might of night when Stealths sneak,
Raining its reign of ruin till reek
On the bastions of blossom and bosom,
As if mama nature is crafting a gloom
And mortals moan her innocence,
So seem seers searching for sanity's presence.

And how do liars loft their throne!
That divine revelations herald revenge to be borne,
Appeasing their spirits with spatial fallacies
That mirth on earth is death and its vices,
Perceiving not that a martyr pyre perishes
Not by the brook of tears that on his headstone washes.
For infatuated falsehood the Sceptre propagates,
Heeding not the horrendous crimes It creates.
And utter; utter nonsense the Sceptre purport
That the heavens beckon war for comfort.

       TO COLUMBINE
What peer prize not praises gaze?
What masked minds mischief raise?
Oh Columbine! Thy heart writhes and teens in tears.
The world wears your bloodied robe and fears
Pondering, what order when in plight, our youths
Will anthem in, where to their angry arrow shoots?
To the graves where the roses are bestowed,
Littleton tears will plead its bleeding load,
Carry its cross to steer teens in reared grief
That the mere luxury of life will breathe relief.
Ponder not Hollywood, an expansive illusion of pretence,
Be not its ape, peered minds, reality pays its expense.
In life's lute, melodies bitter sweet it brings
The rhythms of pleasures and pains how all tutor its strings.

        Womb
The womb of mothers bore scores of generations
Men, who conquer nature's gloomy intentions
With their intelligence. Each renews a height steadily.
When the infection of ignorance ignites insanity,
Endlessly dispersing the shores of unity,
Mankind is chained to the prison of purity,
Transforming minds, blends of venomous knowledge
To enkindle malice and drink of the wine of carnage.
Here, the prize of living cherishes a commune
That only on them shines the sun and moon.

Mankind's polarise communes charters erringly
At every proximity, the course of narrow mentality,
Nurturing each natal purity to its end
A fixed axle of consumption, culture, spirituality and ideals to defend.
Lost from its grips is wisdom, that every home,
From mother to mother, masticate the same basics to optimum.
Each ingestion, metabolism and excretion is exactly the same
Though recipe in discreet differs the game.
Undoubtedly, the locality mould the unseen mind in spirited prejudice
Where is created, a supernatural, each commune claim is the ultimate bliss.

All the claims, the many claims, and any of ultimate bliss spiritual
Will vehemently stake and stave the material ideal.
Each seeded, grafted and even transplanted leaders,
Each pursues the material communal wellbeing to anchor their pillars.
Intently, the superiority of belief is inductance to war,
And foolishly, symbolising each succumbing mortal as in the sky a star.
Historically, belief is belief, not the eternal truth,
That is of mankind, senselessly in supernatural pursuit,
Fill the spiritual ocean with material blood,
Using fists, swords, gunpowder and scud.

Meanwhile, the maternal reservoirs replenishes divinely true,
Dutifully churning babes of all conceivable hue.
Beliefs, now ballooning to saturated ignorance,
Dare the faces of polarity and purity as a consequence.
Flourishing at the junctions of communal insanity
Is cane guided concretised suppositions, fueling the hatred of purity.
Alas! Is the impossible splitting of the same strand of DNA in Pakistan and India,
Senselessly flushing the same hue of blood in and around Bosnia,
Each day forgetting Adam and Eve for the sake of Palestinian or Israeli
And doping poor uneducated Hutus and Tutsis, cannibalism in Burundi.

--L. D. Persaud (copyright)
L. D. Persaud is a Guyanese born poet who resides in Canada.