Bleeding Indigo (Flowers for the Masses)

Inhumanity is the keynote of stupidity in power.

Bones are spilled into a sea of graves.

Spiked tongues speak as though flesh were a slight.

Closed hearts drown like a ship full of slaves,

chained by depths that are blacker than night.

Life in the womb is death in a tomb.

So small the fingers; so soft the hair.

Cold, sterile heartbeats pulse in the room.

Life ends a life with no love to spare.

 

A rocket, a glare, bullets to burn,

and shattered limbs are limping to flee.

Lawmakers talk while the helpless mourn.

A sheath of flesh falls and fades, set free.

Ruin and rubble occupy homes

once filled with laughter and life and love.

Now silent the streets as each soul roams.

There are no stars in this night above.

 

Sunflowers sprout from a soldier’s hand,

his comrades stacked like Matryoshka dolls.

Red fields glisten as blood soaks the land

while Putin hides behind Trojan walls.

Snippets and glimpses rattle the screen,

crowded bunkers of human debris.

War is too much, a bloody machine.

How could this not matter much to me?

 

Women are treated less than a man.

Ideology rules religion.

This is the hold on Afghanistan,

and a world deprived of its vision.

Borders have buckled, nations to fall.

Lawfulness lays in gutters of blood.

In the hands of hate, we are all small,

built on the bodies buried in mud.

 

There’s not enough life for me to write

of wildflower dreams trampled in death,

not enough roses, not enough light

to let go the dying cusp of breath.

Bleeding indigo, my heart is sad.

No more gold-rimmed, rose-colored glasses.

So for the good trampled by the bad,

I offer flowers for the masses.

Author's Note

Reviews

[Betty Hermelee]

This is an amazing poem of such truth and horror.. darkness is the master of all; the light is covered by death and blood...and it's happening in more than one country; and if it's not war torn chaos, then it's starvation by drought..... you really painted an honest and beautiful picture of how the human race and natue is being destroyed....no wildflower dreams here.... this is a somewhat forgotten tragedy
Best, Betty

[Ken Simm.]

So true and specific yet wide ranging. your thoughts on these are spot on and yet beautiful. All the losses so sadly but wonderfully portrayed here.

[willweb]

The sadness of those caught up in this political war is so sad and truly unimaginable. Your poem bleeds for them and brings the reader front and center to the atrocities of this regime. beautifully rhymed and penned sadness my friend.

[AYVID N]

I see masses of indigo bleeding profusely for the murdered, looted, fooled and plundered. The masses and masses of common people. Each beautifully crafted and penned verse whispers with the pain felt for all the myriad ways in which the vulnerable suffer. The world is deeply wounded and in pain.

[John the Baptist]

Well, Linda, this one is not your basic upper. Your meter and rhyme are excellent, as usual, but this is really a dark one. I was actually relieved when you mentioned Putin; I knew things couldn't be this bad in Lynchburg.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

No. This one has lingered in my mind for a while, just a desire to write of all the ills in this world, man's inhumanity to man. It's sad that our world has come to this. It truly is. As always, I appreciate you and your thoughts.

[Relic]

The middle-east has never been a happy or prosperous area. Ever since I was old enough to understand war that's always been the place where I expected it.

I wish Putin would die, plain and simple.

Good poem. :)

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you for visiting and commenting, Relic. I appreciate your feedback. :)