The Vacuum

The Vacuum



I look and see nothing,

Proceed, produce a list:  

‘By this and that we exist’.

Thought-choked paralysis, gags and chains.

I am not the bitter daughter, 

Realise, play games.



Preferential to sleep

Through this than covertly creep

And fear the cold, sharp steel that ends the evening. 

Inevitable. Waste. Inescapable. Land.

The want of wealth and fame,

We are lean and ‘tanned’.



Woken in the night by a Panzer

And Stanza after Stanza the offensive roles

On. Should it roll over us?

Twice dead heroes in a war of the word.

Politicians praised for peace

Begin a third.  



The old Greek men whisper of absolute values;

Their wars were great,

Though intangible. 

We, like them, have fallible wrecks of Kings.

One ‘great’ war once

Almost destroyed all things. 



A world where leaders are borne of pregnancy:

We muse, but have none.

Those who realise look to the hills,

Yet that green hue you see is a different Abraham.

Presidents preside, no shepherd resides,

Only farmers with dying sheep and lamb.