The Moon and War - two human obsessions that fill history from our shrouded tribal past to our global tumultuous present. How different are we from our so-called primitive past? Does technology mean we have advanced or is humanity still in its infancy? It would seem that magic and conflict continue to dominate and as we sit around our campfires, we are still afraid of those demons in the night.

These poems do not have answers but are one person's meagre reflections about the state of our being. I'm not even sure they hold any real understandings and are more likely to be simple explorations through a small window to the world.

As usual, I present them in a small homemade chapbook for your consideration. If even one phrase or thought sends a reader veering off into previously unexplored territory, then this book will have been a success.

Mark Clement

The Moon and War

When I get up at five and see the moon
clutched firmly in the branches of a tree,
I wonder why men go to war, and gods
and folly were invented for that time.

Unseen from here, the great long sea
stretches and chases this bright lamp
that hangs still as silent gods and foolish men
cry beneath a sun that burns that distant land.

That long supple sea cannot reach this black
tree that cradles the moon, the men and me
with our foolish gods who, with hidden thread,
bind this morning scene like some whole cloth.

The birds chirp and chatter at each other,
the leafless tree releases the slow moon
and the sharp sun cracks the black horizon
before I can unwrap the cloth or hear
the gods speak about why men go to war.