The Conspirators

Love and War

Somewhere,
Love is struck down
Not by the weight of riot shields,
clamoring against sudden crowds.
It is beaten down.
Not by nightsticks,
Breaking faces and hearts.
It is suppressed
Not by tons of tanks,
Rolling zipper treads into city streets.
It is laid to rest
Not by assault weapons,
or asphalt used as cover by the dead.
Somewhere
Love is doomed,
Not by secret police,
Putting down conspiracies,
One after another, like cement bags.
Somewhere,
Love is crushed,
Not by buildings falling around

Conscientious objectors.

Author's Note

Where is it, that love is murdered?

Reviews

[Baby Ricochet]

It depends on what kind of love you mean. Expectations, disappointment and boredom kills off romantic love.

[Marie]

I think TL Boehm is right. Indifference kills love.

[Epipsychologist]

Yeah. That's what I was going for here. I think I need to revise it a little. I went with what sounded right in my ear, but I'm not sure if the main point is clear: that love doesn't get extinguished by force but, as you and T.L. point out, by apathy/indifference. I'm thinking I should begin each sentence with "Love," whereas now some begin with "it." Thanks for commenting Marie.

[TL Boehm]

in the arms of apathy.
This is a strong poem

[Epipsychologist]

Thank you TL.

This comment has given me the idea to maybe write a reactionary poem to this one that describes indifference in terms of armament.

[TL Boehm]

that is awesome! RR me if you will