Melody of a song leads me,

Back to a path of flowers,

Everywhere, all around that I see,

The leaves rustling ,whispering,

To my ears the tale of all ,

That passed along, holding hands,

With dreams shared, tragedies spared,

To a place I once saw light escaping,

The guarded envelope of trees, unscathed,

And the wind blowing a new life,

Scattering the dead somewhere,

And nursing the green bloom underneath,

Tales of  how it grew dark for some,

And for others welcomed the bright shiny sun,

How the hands that once caressed,

Yearned now to tear each others flesh,

How the eyes that once spoke of undying love.

Now with only hatred, burn,

The consolation how meager to my ears,

Enough to put my mind at misery,

How often man changes his skin,

How often he hurts, strangers and kin,

How easy for some, to trample and move on,

How difficult it is to give ,sacrifice and hold on,

We still live by code of savages, ferocious and wild,

"Meanest  survive in this world of civilized."


Poetry by sagi
Read 1108 times
Written on 2014-02-03 at 23:01

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Excellent play on Darwinism's 'survival of the fittest.' Too often the fittest are indeed the meanest. Good poem.

StillHoppin The PoetBay support member heart!
This takes a dark turn, which I anticipated because of the title of your work. Your poem is well-written, thought-provoking, and very much enjoyed.

The complexity of this poem is admirable. The questions you ask at the end require a lifetime to answer. Why are some people the way they are? I've always been taught that fear comes before anger or meanness and it helps me understand why some can be so vicious. Others I don't understand. Our society encourages the survival of the meanest. A very sad thing when children are born so full of love and hope. Who or why are they twisted into such meanness? I commend you on your deep thoughts.

Thank you Ivan for your compliments about the poem and taking time to think about it.

Ivan R
First, the poem and its tone and style... outstanding.
With calm and ease the poet takes on a monumental question, but the poet, and the poem does not scare us away, but draw us into a place where light hardly escapes with a hand stretched out, saying: " come with me "
Imagine how well written something must as to take one along this dark world as this one is, but thankfully, holding the candlelight firm and steady in front of us.
Then, the question asked and the meaning in this poem
is tremendous, one that I myself often ask, though I have not read a poem dealing with these questions that is as great as this one.
The nearest I get is in prose, in the book:
" Fateless " by Imre Kertész,
wich has the same careful, soft, wondering question about average people and evel, and why that happens... your poem is great.



The Three Realms, 'Heart'
by sagi