The holy declare who’s unholy
and expunge their sins
,               ‘There are no innocents /
,                              fire cleans’
The anguish of the purifier
demolished, shattered and maimed –
Boundless embitterment, failings,

and heaven’s bruised beast’s —
raging prejudice.

The Patriot day marathon runners
coming to the finish breathless
exultant —
.          Cheering friends waiting —
the holy blew them up.

Holy,  holy, /  holy revenge done
a conflagration of sirens, hospital gates open.

.            The avenger’s mind

wind raged – a whorl
within an Hijab of purity.

Purity bred contempt;
‘I don’t like any of you’

Runners were cut that day,
legs torn off,  found lying about,
victims were rushed away

Grim time, clocks stop, sirens hang in the air
red carpets under foot.

Boston, Belfast,  Bagdad, it’s the same,
someone getting even,
again and again.
Balance  never restored.
the death of the bomber expected and pointless
afterward, so many are dead.
Lives torn – knowing why doesn’t help the crippled.
Joy and love  dismissed by vengeance,
it wasn’t explained,
no words,

Kent Bowker   4/25/2013

One thought on “Marathron”

  1. We think alike. In the book “Synchronicity: Experiencing The Mystery In Life” I state my “intellectual” theme at the end of the first chapter: all human suffering comes from moral judgement. Now we’re human. We all do it, but it isn’t necessary. We can choose not to do it.

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