Colin F. Jones
A QUESTION OF PEACE
~ 1 ~
Some speak of peace; but peace does not exist,
Except to dignify a rest from conducting war,
And perhaps to support those who would resist,
With righteous flags the unreality they adore.
The bird at peace is hunted by the cat,
And the Eagle, with its talons and wide spread claw,
Disturbs the peace of the ignorant hungry Rat
That becomes a victim of nature’s perpetual war.
How could the predator without a victim live?
How could the lamb without the grasses grow?
How could the bird build nests upon the limb?
How can life be, lest the seeds of death we sow?
‘Tis favoured that the world be a different place,
But that could only be if it vanished without a trace.
~ 2 ~
The contradiction from which man aspires to gain,
Choosing one or the other to camouflage his shame,
Is his faith in God who has said when peace will come,
As opposed to the hope that now it shall be done.
To accept the world as the world is as you see,
Is to accept it as it was made by God to be.
Yet to pray and hope that peace might exist today,
Is to deny God’s words and all that they do say.
We can with Jesus walk righteously and good,
And we can, like him, be killed as a Christian should.
And raise no hand to attack or defend,
Those in our care on whom the world depends.
But we are creatures designed to live on Earth,
And to defend our lives, justifies our birth.
~ 3 ~
We have no choice, we are born and we will live,
We don’t choose our Sires or the Mother he lives with,
We don’t choose our sisters, brothers Uncles Aunts,
We don’t choose our colour, race or country because we can’t.
As we grow our choices are controlled by law,
We don’t choose the peace and we don’t choose the war,
We choose from things chosen for us by men,
Who sit behind desks and wield the privileged pen.
All choices made are made from choiceless choice,
Where the fallacy freedom, practices its loud voice.
And where he dropped with a parachute overhead,
Is where he lies, alive or very dead.
‘Tis all relevant, which way the wind might blow,
And without choice the river downhill will flow.
~ 4 ~
If there’s no freedom then what is choice,
Except a word expressed by voice,
We are not free to choose a thing,
The winter comes as does the spring.
It is offered this or it is offered that,
And we wear our own or another’s hat.
Choice is based on the minds content,
From things obscure and irrelevant,
Or from those things by others made,
Like super cars and lemonade.
False choices are made by the nascent rich,
And the poor don’t have a ball to pitch.
We do what we are forced to do,
Including the high and mighty few.
~ 5 ~
I walk from this point here to that point there,
To help someone for whom I care,
But it is not a choice to go or stay,
For if there is a wall between I can’t walk hey?
What determines decision is circumstance,
There is always a pawn you can advance,
According to your expertise,
But forced by the moves of your adversaries.
So where lays the origin of the choice to choose,
You were given life you could not refuse,
You may make decisions every day,
But you will surely die; just pass away.
All the choices that you think you make,
Are forced by another’s same mistake.
~ 6 ~
When we had no food, could we choose to eat,
Could we choose a chair when we had no seat?
Could we choose a job in a jobless town,
Or choose to get up when we were held down?
Where are the choices for the famished poor,
For the starving children on the fields of war
Do they choose to live in a Hessian tent,
Do they choose to pay an excessive rent?
And where is the choice for a man enslaved,
Or a woman raped by a man depraved.
Did the vanished soldier choose to die,
Or the survivor choose to fail and cry.
It is just a fallacy this selective word,
For choice is a reference quite absurd.
©Copyright September 25, 2004 by Colin F. Jones