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Don't get me wrong, I like your poem. I may even have a crack at one myself.
There once was a man from Namtucket.. nah needs a little more thought.

The role of a poem I suppose, is to promote some thought or emotion, and that you've managed to do. Maybe not in the way that you may have liked, because what stands out to me is that you will put your economic principles above the principles of not involving the nation in an "unprovoked" war.
A poem or a prayer doesn't bring back little Ackmar's arms and legs, but listening to "God's voice" (also known as common sense) can prevent it from happening in the first place.

Anyway, this is about poems, not debates, so I won't continue with it here.

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Hmm..
Yeah maybe, but knowing that you can go to confession and still gain a pass to God's kingdom doesn't do much for me personally.
It's a form of non-sequitor rationalisation.
It doesn't make any sense to point yourself in that direction. You don't gain "credits" from God by comparing yourself to others, you gain credits by exceeding yourself and not needing, expecting or wanting any reward for doing so.
Can't honestly say that I can do that myself. I'm pretty crap at it actually  i

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I'd rather continue this topic on another thread actually.

What I'm meaning is that it's imperative to listen to God's word before the fact, not after.
It's no use writing poems (as a form of confession) after little Ackmar has had his arms and legs blown off.
You supposedly "know" God, and yet you don't even listen.
All of the media tripe, all of the political tripe wasn't seen for the bs that it was. Where was God? He obviously deserted your common sense if you hold the opinion that the wars were/are unjust.

On the other hand, you may honestly be of the opinion that it was imperative to intiate these wars and the poems are a way of consoling yourself for your beliefs which will not change in the future.
It may be a bit remiss of me to ask right now that if given the current circumstances, and if you could've seen into the future, would you have changed your vote to labor if they were the best hope for not involving our nation in an unjust war?

Is your poem an acceptance of the mistake of going to war and all of the horrors that war brings, or is it an acceptance that others must die for you?

I'll hop off my moral high horse and confess that I was in favour of the invasion of Iraq. I imagined that if the WMD's were non-existent then those governments would never ever be trusted again. I was wrong.
Maybe that can be the subject of a poem. I'm totally disallusioned there.

I'm now more of the belief that "confession" means to seek forgiveness for what one has done, and for what one will do again.

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I was asking if it is a request for the impossible changing of the past, or
an acceptance of the future?
Does it change your future actions at all?

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Yes, I suggested that earlier. But now we've come down to it, a simple yes or no would suffice.

Mirrors

Mirrors reflect back
the emotional images we cast;
but our inner thoughts do track
the trajectories of our past.

And honesty is such an image
for it's reflected in our eyes
along with strength and courage
and the truth we hide in lies.

Trust and faith are others
though they're very hard to find
I've met many players
but I've left them all behind.

And if loyalty exists
I've yet to see its glare
in all the turns and twists
of the images we wear.

(Written by me in 2008)


I wrote this poem for example after a period of deep reflection on past significant relationships/friendships.

CONCEIT

It is conceit that kills us
and makes us cowards instead of gods.

Under the great Command: Know thy self, and that thou art mortal!
we have become fatally self-conscious, fatally self-important,
fatally entangled in the cocoon coils of our conceit.

Now we have to admit we can't know ourselves,
we can only know about ourselves.
And I am not interested to know about myself any more,
I only entangle myself in the knowing.

Now let me be myself,
now let me be myself, and flicker forth,
now let me be myself, in the being, one of the gods.


- D H Lawrence

Our Ashes,


The Ashes, steeped in history, steeped in tradition

No longer in our possesion, nor for the forseeable future


The wheels of time bring about a change that is hard to accept

It's only a game isn't it? Just a bat and a ball?


The game has survived where others have not

Throughout the wars of the world, the game has provided hope


A rulebook, a piece of wood and a wrapping of leather

The hope that wars will not be

The hope that self-importance will be aligned to the same significance


We want the ashes, we want them dearly

Anything more than a wayward beam ball is unacceptable

We have rules which don't involve wars


Fight it out with a bat and a ball

The ashes belong to all.i