No Country For Old Men

Of late I have been told
That my view of the world
Has turned rather dark
And gloomy
Full of dread and
Foreboding for the
Future of the Human race
Now where would I have ever
Gotten such an idea from?

Could it be from the
Long blood stained
History of the Human race
Every since we began to
Crawl out of the caves of
Asia, Africa and Europe?

Or more recently from
The entire history of the
Twentieth century
The bloodiest century of them all?

During my life time alone
My father returned from WWI
And he came home
As a permanently disabled war veteran
My brother and his generation served
Both in WWII and then again in Korea
I was drafted to serve
In the Viet Nam War
And although I graciously declined
Uncle Sam’s generous invitation
The war raged on without me
For ten more bloody years

Today as I approach
My retirement years
America has only just recently
Pulled out of Iraq after
Eight years of
Invasion and occupation

And as this poem is being written
The USA remains bogged down
In a seemingly
Never ending war in Afghanistan

Glory Hallelujah!

And I have no doubt that
As my two young grandsons
Reach their majority
That America
Will still be at war
Somewhere
And still in need of more
Cannon fodder to
Sacrifice to the gods of war

When that time comes
I can only hope
That my two grandsons
Will have inherited enough
Intestinal fortitude and courage
To be able to tell
The military industrial war mongers
To go straight to hell
And to be able to say
Hell No We Won’t Go!
When it becomes time
For their generation
To stand up and be counted

I have lived long enough
To be able to say that
I have reached old age
I see the future
As through a glass darkly
Like that great old seer
Of ancient lore
Dr. Jean Michel de Nostradamus
I end this refrain
With a quatrain
From the old master
Himself

By fire he will destroy their city
A cold and cruel heart
Blood will pour
Mercy to none

However you want to slice it
This is no country for
Old men

jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2012






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