Poetry by Richard Kovac

Looking Backwards
His favorite word
is "asinine".
His parents
are "asinine".
The school
is "asinine".
The war
is "asinine".
The world
is "asinine".
And it is.
But he grew up
and paid
a pretty penny
for it.

Man Is A Warrior
It's in the blood to slay
since Cain strangled Abel.
Whoever says "honest to God"
is dishonest,
since we should always be honest.
If we are honest
and have some trust,
the steel of war
will cease and rust.
When will this happen?
War is still here.
Peace says, "I'm coming",
we wait and we fear
man is a warrior.
He must die to himself

A Bridal Song
Flowers that burn
when I pluck them
are a garland
to adorn you.
That is poetry.
You are real.
I don't know yet
whether these flames
are fires of the holy spirit
or scorching coals from hell.
Time will tell.
But if my words made
flowers in winter
still the miracle would
fail to praise you well.
In gaining you
I have nothing to lose
except me.

A Grain of Sand
We are one tiny
grain of sand
in a vast,
maybe endless,
ocean beach.
And yet we dare
within our minds,
infinity to reach,
or try to, at least,
ending the breach
between God and us.
Will it be thus?

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