Conscientious Objection edit 2.svan, billy

[billy]

the title makes me ask the question, is the narrator the objector or are we all objectors in some way. i think the opening line says more than words. from images i get news coverage etc. media. the word flicker automatically made me think of the news. i think in places it's wordy. words like [seem] and [sometimes] weaken the statement of the poem. most of my feedback is borderline nit. the cliche parts and the last three lines are more than nits. i did enjoy the poem the images were well structured. i just need to read it a few more times to getter a better insight into it. i will read the piece again

The images are old familiar friends
that flicker in and out of cluttered minds. a suggestion to make the 1st two lines less cliche would be [of the clutter] to know you meant cluttered minds wouldn't take more than a very small leap by the reader, i'd also suggest [some images] as the start of the opening line. even so, the opening isn't too bad as it is.
We cry sometimes to see the broken limbs,
of bloodied children dusted by their war; as it is, [their war] sounds to ambiguous a suggest if you meant the war of of adults would be [their father's war]
small price to pay for freedom’s curdling call. i like the c's, [small price to pay] is cliche no matter what it's attached to. a suggestion would be [what price for fr....] while [what price] verges on cliche almost as much, it would help out a little bit
Ripped hearts and doll-dead bodies i like the image of this line. i also like the ambiguity of ripped hearts. adult hearts, kids hearts, i like that the reader can pick which way to take the suffering
do not move us anymore. and this line; while very weak in content or image , is actually very strong as a juxtaposition to the previous lines.

It seems one sun above is not the God, why [it seems] why not just [one sun above....] make it a bold statement. personally i think son would work better with what follows but sun does give a sort of pagan feel to use as the failed crow bar
to steal and stir immiscible beliefs i think this is an excellent line. many will pass by thinking they know what it means, a lovely way to use the word.
into that promised meld of humankind.
As if the furnace heat of holy lands
could ever cool enough to firm the melt,
or by attrition reach a setting point.
We pray for peace no more.

What point or purpose in a winning hand
when all the gains are lost to join the game?
What trait within the evolution meme i'm thinking we're talking about natural selection that says kill to survive. or only the strong survive.
can so destroy the child, yet pass through time?
And when we lie alone and in our beds, a big cliche
what answers come as sleep comes drawn by peace?
Not one; we dream away each war. the last three lines feel forced

Tectak
2013