In the morning, bombs are falling,
in the evening, poison gas;
all the questions have been answered,
another test we did not pass.
People dead and peoples scattered,
nations gone, not yet forgotten,
where can we put the last survivors,
not in my backyard, we pray.
buildings can we shatter,
people can we starve and slaughter,
children can we leave to screaming,
no one left to take them home.
When it's over, will we know
by the silence and the empty
place where once a nation stood
The ancient design is new to us,
Since tactical knives all look the same.
It's exciting to see the possibilities
In a blade that looks like a flame.
VG-10 is hard and sharp,
It slips through meat and fruit and bread;
But the blade is much too narrow
To use on any kind of spread.
Its razor edge is hollow-ground,
The recurved blade angles down.
With narrow, wasp-waist handle slabs
It might make people frown.
It reminds me of knives
Of days long past,
When work demanded
The sharp and fast.
For self-defense or sacrifice,
Our forefathers liked
This kind of knife.
from June 16, 2000