Do I Dare Care? – a poem of dissent and longing

Do I Dare Care?

A poem of dissent and longing

By Jane Tawel

January 4, 2020


Do I dare care?

When there are so many of us,

So much chaff,

So little substance,

Just charts and graphs,

These endless bullet points,

And births and deaths,

And I grow weary of one more breath…

Do I dare care?



The waves of humanity,

Rolling on,

Rolling over,

Here and yon,

Rising up to fade away,

Words like oceans,

Night and day,

None to care about,

None to care for,

Too many, too few,

Passing ships of you and you and you and you…

Too much care, too much care….

I’ll just stay buried here;

Blinding myself, Oedipus-like,

Screens blare and glare,

And all seems so life-like,

Moldering here,

So why dare care?



I could be agape,

For 24/7,

Searching for signs that shape

Our hells and our heavens.

But my heart will not long for long,

I grow listless and numb,

As the schisms between right and wrong,

Are buried alive,

In the mass overdrive,

Of taking and taking and taking

and making and making and making

and greeding and greeding and greeding

and needing and needing and needing…

Just what?

Just who?

Just why?

So why try?

Eat, drink, tomorrow I die.



Just what do I yearn for,

And why must I keep score,

When our planet burns shore to shore,

And the rich scorn the poor?

Each human being’s urge for

The crowd’s roar,

The prime floor, the front door, the top drawer,

We’re covered in gore,

And we’re all whores

In our endless drive for


And more, more, more, more, more…

To earn more,

And learn more,

And get more returns for–

I can’t find the words for,

The sickness I feel for,

That all I have worked for,

And loved for,

And lived for,

Is nothing in terms for,

The non-ending search for,

The meaning I yearn for,

but now Red Alerts for

the whole world is worse for

the wear–

so why should I care?


The Judge has adjourned for,

Some place more concerned for,

Not starting a world war,

Or making more eyesores,

But beings who still adore,

The Maker of neighbors, next-door,

So, why should I search for,

Those great Gods of old lore?

They all took the exit door,

And now it’s our turn for,

Figuring out what the terms are,

A real live concern for…..




So why should I care?

Soul-survival will be rare.

And that small little prayer,

That we thought would deflect,

Us from evil and death,

Can never protect–

 Judgement Day is a-comin’!

The beat that’s a-drummin’

Is the one I suspect,

Is the cause and effect,

Of the time I have spent,

In true love.


As the masses march on,

Love and life will be gone,

And a new world’s bright dawn,

With a new Kingdom come,

For those acting upon,

Not the rage to be first,

But the soul’s aching thirst,

For a world without end,

Where my foe is my friend,

And my only protection,

Is in new Resurrection.



Oh, there once was a Good Man

With the only stratagem,

For recreating our atoms,

Into new Eves and Adams.

The Good Man set the pace,

for our life in this place;

He began a pure race,

Made of sinners and saints,

Whom the earth will embrace,

In true heaven-like space.

It’s by seeking His face,

That my cares are erased,

And replaced….

With love.



There’s a world that’s not found,

In my burdens, earthbound;

But a kingdom that’s fueled,

By upside-down rules,

Led by Servants and Fools.

Isn’t that what I’m wanting

When I’m striving and flaunting?

But what just keeps on haunting

Me is just how darn dauntingly,

The day gets away from me,

And the night appears sneakily,

And by morning’s light,

I’ve forgotten our plight,

Long enough just to bury,

All the things that are scary,

And I busy me, mine, and I,

With pain-numbing lies,

About how the Divine,

Doesn’t care—

So why should I dare?



So, I search and explore,

  But meanwhile, I’m still lost,

In this endless, vast host,

Of my own words and thoughts,

All borrowed or bought,

And it’s all such a bore,

I can’t take too much more.

Oh, I swear,

I don’t care….



Yet this still, needling Voice,

taunts me to make the choice,

to pick both Truth and Dare,

and just care.


What I yearn for,

Is Somewhere,

And I beg

to be led There,

by the One who beat death,

just a man from Nazareth,

yet, the true image of,

Endless Meanings of Love.

Those who live like The Son,

And those acting upon,

Others’ needs, hurts, and cares,

Even now, as true heirs,

Will partake and drink of

Endless peace, endless love….



Oh, I slump here, world-weary,

Barely able to query…

Do I dare?


Published by

Jane Tawel

Still not old enough to know better. I root around and explore ideas in philosophy, spirituality, poetry, Judeo-Christian Worldview, family, relationships, and art. Often torn between encouragement & self-directed chastisement, I may sputter, but I still keep trying to move forward.

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