Poem: Our Blue Heaven

Stop killing. Stop war. What do we fight for? What do we fight against? We kill, we win, then what?

This poem is what is in my heart — Plainspeak, if you will.

Poem: Our Blue Heaven

What are we fighting for anyway?
A piece of land?
A flag?
An identity based on belief?
Common skin color?
Or theirs being different?
Or because they speak differently?
We die, we all die.
Today, if not, tomorrow.
We kill theirs. They kill ours.
Then?
We are just statistics on a screen.
Or just a tombstone somewhere.
Then?

We are just tenants -
living on borrowed time.
What is an identity
that makes us vindictive?
A vicious wheel keeps turning
and what has gone down
has come up now
it is somebody’s turn
to face the barrel of the gun
The dead won’t speak
The living will suffer forever.

Some men in suits
will tell a few kids in uniforms
to fight for the flag
but all they do is kill
and suffer from trauma
Is it a retribution for
somebody’s past suffering
or it is just vain bravado
or just expendables
for somebody’s arms business.

Here is something -
Enjoy the cocktail of humanity
Gods, flags, and colors
they are just who we have been
not who we could be
We could be -
Kind.
Loving.
Together.
On this blue heaven
that we together call home.

- Ashok Subramanian © 2023

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