Tongues of Fire, slur not your Sacred Words.

Are not all faces alike in their distinction?

For all we know, the dark horse is a snake

And the snake is the gold mountain of bodhi.

The fortune-tellers & insane people on cement benches

& street people holding signs made with invisible ink

Decode the days, the forever of days.

We take on new problems faster than we solve the old.

There are no stations to report to.

The camps remain, but not the screams.

Conquest is easy, control elusive.

Military secrets are the most fleeting of all.

I thought my people would grow tired of killing.

I dreamt you and I exchanged something more lasting.



3 December 2011



Spoken word version from Commune, copyright © 2013 by Jim Cohn.