War shoots up through the ages,
depending on where you’re standing
and on how you define your terms.
Law lays down when men and women
require an even playing field on which
to play. Folks start bullying, using
“God” or another name for evil,
try to push us around, until the winds
blow, the sun again shines, and Congress
forms to check the king. Battles are
“won” but lost if from afar you see
the forest from the victory that
folks got hurt, even died… Does
death exist? Depends on where you’re
standing and on how you define terms.
Language is a funny fertilizer, one of
many great measures, as the universe
expands and contracts into big people
banging and creating new beings,
the egg or chicken appearing first
or last—it doesn’t really matter, just
more words you can throw up into
the sky like stars, fly away or plant
yourself to them define; take a stance
and write your Congress person, unless
you are one, then what? Do you win
when you take more than you need,
store up money and goods?
It depends on where you’re standing
and on how you define your terms.
Sometimes when you win, you lose
said some movie down the bluff
from me. I used to be a potted plant,
then broke away to live or die as
a wildflower on the hill, you know
like the ones along the route to San
Francisco.
Take the bus not the train, if in
Spring you care to from L.A. to the
north express for God the song
you sing.
Orange, purple and yellow blossoms on
a green hill above blue water, white
clouds above coagulating while I
ruminate on how buses in Mexico
are better than ours.
Free lunches and movies again, down
the bluff from me and Einstein—
depending on where you’re standing
and on how you define the terms.
Bill Watkins, Traveling Poet 