Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

My name is an ending,
surname,
derived from the Latin
“Martinus”.
(A gift from a father
lost,
failing beneath my
powerless hands).
I am dedicated to war
not poetry
no
not that, not some
clinking
at keys,
rather, clinking
at bullets,
slotting them into clips,
ready for their magazines,
not ‘zines,
not some dumb rags, covered
in words…

not this dumb, unread blog.

this unwatched missile.

rather, I should shoot
metal that pierces skin,
actual hearts,
not
yours. Not your
self,
no.

I am not supposed to be dedicated
to conquering you with my heart.

My aim is supposed to be more literal.

Catastrophic, nonetheless.

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25 thoughts on “Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

      1. Hmmm… good point. Drink can turn us into Cassandra’s time-to-time. Shouting truths that Priam refuses to answer.

      2. “Pilate said to Him, ‘What is Truth?'” It’s still an excellent question… and one that even a supposed god couldn’t answer… To the point that he got crucified over it.

      3. I think everyone strives to know their own…it is when we are unsure of what that might be, that true inner conflict prevails over peace of mind. Now that’s a war.

      4. Neat turn there – I like it. Hmm… Quid est, quod verum non est verum alius est (my high school Latin teacher is likely rolling over in his grave at this point)

      5. Just remain the wine and not the grape. Do you think that is true, in the sense I meant? In terms of perception, perhaps. You are perplexing even the bowl of cereal that I am eating. I definitely think too much.

      6. I think it’s always best to choose the wine, over the grape. Sometimes, it’s fun to complicate cereal…

  1. Not so much… I live in this watery, drifting place. There’s a shoreline, safety, I know it… obscured by fog, but I hear the bells… there is truth. if only hope, in the morning fog… She can guide you to safety, a muse suddenly appearing, beckoning home…

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