BURIED UNDER MOUNTAINS OF RUBBLE

Seven years ago, I sat on the beach at Belmont Shore in Long Beach, Calif and wrote the following poem. I was in shock struggling to take in the events of 9/11. I felt numb, furious, hurt and vulnerable as the rest of the country. For weeks, all I could write about was 9/11 and its aftermath.

Now, I am no longer shocked by what happened, but I haven't forgotten that pain and hurt and even more importantly, the souls who were lost that day....

This is what I struggled to write on 9/11/2001 ... a day where a lot in this country lost their sense of security and invulnerability of living in America.
That's when we joined the rest of the world...and realized no place is safe..

GP

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BURIED UNDER MOUNTAINS OF RUBBLE

No peace anywhere.
Wracked with rage.
Torn apart from fear
escalating into constant wars.

Surely, this unending sorrow
can't be all we are living for?

Under mountains rubble
so many lost dreams.

Under mountains of rubble
struggling to define what civilization means.

Under mountains of rubble
when does the healing begin?

They are rattling their sabres.
It's revenge we savor.
Dust and blood
clouds our eyes
and chokes our hearts
but eye for an eye
leaves us blind every time.

We can't lose our
hearts and compassion
under the rubble of
our shattered hopes.

Under mountains of rubble
so many lost lives,
lost futures
buried.

Under mountains of rubble
lies our love and understanding.

Under mountains of rubble
when does the healing begin?

Will we create new mountains of rubble
in a never ending cycle of retribution?

Who will rescue of our tattered notions
of peace on Earth
buried
under
mountains of rubble?

George Pappas
Copyright 2008