Poem | |
America the Free ~ America the Brave ~
Freedom with price Capitalism attacked
the many taken hearts broken still
one World try to rebuild
sadness and tears fall hard with fears
guilt by association many accused still
souls evaporated shattered dreams
tears fall on innocence left with anger
The proud fearless knew the inevitable
policeman fireman many lives lost
grieving does not stop 12 years later
New York city once proud & shameless
refusing to let fears in protecting ours
left in shock still question's unanswered
nothing learned nothing gained
ready to attack many left behind
anger greets denial anger meets rage
unacceptable still refusing new love
wanting days to rewind let us go back in time
acceptance allowing the victims leave in peace
the brave taken young leaving us sadly old
haunting dreams lost spirits dwell
no answers to hate never forgetting that day
Evil entered suddenly unforgiving fate
entering our City we stand with the fallen
How to fix how do we Change
This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud to write ~
Poem | |
This ain't my first rodeo, so knowing the score more than four
I declare in this manure-flinging system of elected despotism
we ain't got no permanent friends, just permanent interests.
America's a dazzling chupacabra of a conceit
conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition
that shades of equality increase the gross market share.
We supplant the visible etchings of the colonial lash
with the invisible ones of debt by procuring more *****we don't need.
Breathless canaries in a cultural coal-mine,
fascicled to Breaking Bad, Mad Men and the Simpsons,
shackled to Amazon 's 'Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought'
we're driven out toward the oceans beneath Europa's baker's sugar crust
where freedom exists on a mono-cellular level
but knowing we 're not alone doesn't amount to manure
cuz they ain't Christian microbes so they ain't gonna be no use to us.
Like wind before the thunder the supple susurrus of my heart
sends frissons of pleasure jolting though my *****
bloated to such Brobdingnagian dimensions
as to feel at home in the hallowed aisles of Costco or Sam's Club.
Our finger wagging Uncle has overstayed his welcome,
So **** your tired, your poor -
you're taking away jobs from real Americans.
**** your huddled masses yearning to breathe free -
your emergency room doctor visits are costing taxpayers $2286 a pop.
**** the wretched refuse of your teeming shore -
we already have enough garbage to fill our landfills
Just gimme my VIZIO 80” Razor LED™ 3D Smart TV for my eye candy
Gimme my Google Nexus 8 cell phone cuz Steve Jobs can suck my dick
Gimme my Fidelio X1 headphones so I don't miss the subtle nuances in Willie Nelson's
Gimme my Nestlé Crunch Girl Scout candy bars for my sweet tooth and latent pedophilia
Gimme my Dial Triple Moisture Body cuz my balls got a stank like 3 day old crawdads
Gimme my Quilted Northern Ultra Plush toilet tissue cuz my ass needs TLC and backdoor action
Gimme my Fruit Smoothie Shakers so I don't have to get gouged by some turban mofo at Jamba Juice
Gimme my Gillette Fusion ProGlide Power Razor so I don't look like Jesus-F-Christ or a sandnigger
Gimme my Lash Factor Eyelash Conditioner cuz flirtatious love winks should be unconditional
America's soul is shrinking and vanishing like glaciers.
Grackles ebonize the sky where once proud eagles soared.
With God's help, America will rise again like the body of Christ after a good whooping!
Come on y'all - don't let my patriotic rant spoil a perfectly good Klan rally.
Poem | |
Under cumulus clouds, grew cauliflowers.
He planted them with love because I adorn them when they were harvested to the table of healthy man, my husband; sons; and brothers.
All were vegetable farmers of California.
We woman loved cooking for them.
They say there never was a better meal than this one every time we cooked.
That was each day of the yield.
Spirits were high as hell.
The profits were insurmountable.
They increased each year.
The sunshine brightly and this eased our fears.
We became wealthy and retired well.
Our children went off into the world.
Both sons became Attorneys of Law.
Penned on October 30, 2014!
Poem | |
AN AURORA ALOUETTE - RAIN DOGS
the morning dewdrops
the sap on the trees
the wind blowing pleasingly
a stroll I will take
a joyous promenade
with my umbrella and cane.
rain oh rain will show
dawn is to enjoy.
gloomy not, away I go
pouring cats and dogs.
dulcetly I sing “Rain Dogs.”
Penned on August 31, 2014!
Poem | |
Is the USA Discriminating Against God?
Across this country, is a new form of “elimination.”
It’s almost like there’s a “God discrimination.”
In the court’s efforts to remove him
from our schools…
It’s almost like “just about anything” rules!
Many get concerned that the cross may be “offensive.”
Thereby causing many churches to be “defensive.”
It seems like godly morals are a thing of the past.
This country is going downhill! And very fast!
Traditional marriage has even been torn asunder!
So much of the biblical truth has been plundered!
Those defending their faith are
labeled as “anti this or that.”
Just look at the crossroads this country is coming at!
If I serve God… Do these words often seem “inflammatory?”
Is it God himself, that's
Do the words; “In God we trust,” mean anything?
Without a Godly foundation,
America has lost EVERYTHING!
God gave us the Bible. We need this for proper direction.
The courts in our land cannot give truthful interpretations!
The Constitution or the Bible… Which will set us free?
Which actually gives an individual freedom and liberty?
We need God. Like we’ve never needed him before!
We need his love and forgiveness all across our shores!
He invites you to come and know him… Won’t you?
He is the Lord God. He will never disappoint you!
By Jim Pemberton
Poem | |
My god you call us to be faithful
and while we are not always successful,
me not always with fervor,
do not turn a deaf ear to my prayer.
They come into our country in deceit,
striking blows against the innocent.
They take lives that are not theirs to take.
We have gone to protect the faultless.
Now they come to murder the blameless.
Returning our goodness with vileness.
Allow Satan to punish their immorality.
When they are judged, let the verdict be guilty.
Let their punishment match the grief they have stirred.
Widow's black for all the curs.
I praise my God Yahweh,
for he is in my heart always.
Let us not seek retaliation,
but let my Lord be our retribution.
Publish "Simply Me: Poems"
available paperback and e-book on amazon.
Poem | |
I watched the USA beat the USA today,
Losing a winnable hockey game.
We had a great defense, but then
Chose to give the gold to Canada again.
©2014 Honestly JT
Poem | |
A FOREIGNER ASKED THIS QUESTION OF ME
“WHERE CAN I IN U.S. FIND SOLDIER TO SEE?”
HIS ENGLISH WAS BROKEN, BUT CLEARLY RECEIVED
YET, HOW COULD I BEST EXPLAIN WHAT I BELIEVED
THE ANSWER I GAVE TO THIS QUESTIONABLE TASK
SURPRISED HIM ACCORDING TO WHAT HE HAD ASKED
I SAID, “AN AMERICAN SOLDIER WAS MORE….
THAN SOMEONE ENLISTED OR SENT OFF TO SHORE”
“AN AMERICAN SOLDIER HAS MORE TO BE SEEN….
THAN A MAN OR A WOMAN IN CAMOUFLAGE GREEN”
HIS QUESTION HAD MADE ME LOOK DEEPER WITHIN
BECOMING AWARE OF HOW BLESSED I HAD BEEN
I POINTED MY FINGER AROUND SO HE’D SEE
THAT ALL THOSE AROUND US WE’RE SOLDIERS TO ME
INCLUDING THAT SMALL CHILD NEXT DOOR PLAYING BALL
THAT PERSON SALUTING THE FLAG STANDING TALL
THAT FATHER AND SON OUTSIDE PLAYING TOGETHER
THAT MOTHER AND DAUGHTER EMBRACING EACH OTHER
THAT DOCTOR OR NURSE SHOWING CARE TO THE ILL
THAT ELDERLY VETERAN-QUIET AND STILL
THAT CASE WORKER HELPING THOSE WITH SPECIAL NEEDS
THAT MINISTER PRAYING FOR ALL TO BELIEVE
THAT BANKER AND POSTMAN WHO WORKS ALL DAY LONG
THAT ARTIST AND SINGER WHO PAINTS US A SONG
THAT SINGLE MOM DOING THE BEST THAT SHE COULD
THAT TEEN WHO CONTINUES TO LIVE LIKE HE SHOULD
THAT AMERICAN IMMIGRANT LEGALLY HERE
THAT MAN IN HIS WHEELCHAIR YEAR AFTER YEAR
THAT PROTESTER MARCHING AND SHOUTING HIS VIEWS
THAT SPOKESPERSON GIVING THE SIX O’CLOCK NEWS
THAT CHRISTIAN WHO’S KNEELING AND PRAYING ALONE
THAT MOTHER OR WIFE WORKING DAILY AT HOME
THAT WOMAN WITH CANCER IS ALSO A FIGHTER
THAT WIDOW WHO CLINGS TO HER MEMORIES TIGHTER
THAT MERCHANT THAT SELLS US OUR FOOD AND OUR OIL
THAT CHILD BEING BORN ON AMERICAN SOIL
THEY ALL ARE AMERICANS DOING THEIR PART
AND IN SOME SMALL WAY THEY ARE SOLDIERS AT HEART
I ENDED MY TALK BECAUSE HOW HE WAS STARING
AS IF WITH CONFUSION AT WHAT I WAS SHARING
HE THEN, IN HIS CUSTOM, STOOD STRAIGHT WHILE HE NODDED
LOOKED AT ME AND QUIETLY-SOFTLY APPLAUDED
I THEN SHED A TEAR WHEN HE SPOKE THIS TO ME
“AN AMERICAN SOLDIER IN YOU I CAN SEE”
HE WALKED AWAY AND APPEARED TO HAVE FOUND CLOSURE
WHILE I STOOD THERE PRAISING GOD FOR THE REAL SOLDIER
THAT REAL ONES NOW SERVING RIGHT HERE AND ABROAD
I STAND AND SALUTE YOU AND LOUDLY APPLAUD
TO THOSE WHO ARE SERVING AND THOSE WHO HAVE DIED
FOR THOSE WHO ONCE SERVED AND REMEMBER WITH PRIDE
THE STRUGGLES OF WAR TO KEEP FREEDOM WON’T CEASE
FOR FREEDOM EXIST WHILE YOU FIGHT TO BRING PEACE
BECAUSE OF YOUR SACRIFICE GIVEN EACH DAY
I’M ABLE TO LIVE IN THIS GREAT U.S.A
THE RED, WHITE AND BLUE IS WHAT SHINES IN YOUR EYES
Poem | |
Why is my skin color different?
Did God make me this way?
When he made me, did he have
intentions on me being a slave?
And I thought we were all brothers,
including all the ones of different colors.
But why are they beating and hurting the others.
Someone save me, I didn't choose this life.
These scars, they've carved me with the sharpest
All I have is my faith.
Because if I'd held on to anything else
it'd be theres to take.
What is it that I ask for?
Equality, I preach.
Something small to you,
but makes a difference
Whipping, spitting, hitting on me.
Raping our women in your wife's sheets.
Taking our children and turning them into workers.
No sense of empathy, grief or composer.
For the brotha' on my left and my sista' on the right,
with the courage that I hold I will continue to fight.
You have taken away my freedom, and most of my life.
But what you have failed to obtain is my state of mind.
Go ahead work my body, and do all that you please.
This is just a shell anyway, it's not coming with me.
You spit, you laugh, thinking you gained the world.
You think you have power because you've raped a young girl.
Stand tall sir with all of that pride.
And go ahead and hold it until the day that you die.
But your day will come when you'll fall to your knees.
Feeling the burn on your body from the whips you've given me.
"The LORD is my shelter,"
I continue to say.
While my soul goes up as God takes me away.
I wish you peace with smile on my face,
knowing that God teaches the fullness of grace.
Poem | |
This Memorial Day…
We salute every soldier who’s
served this great nation.
And offer a heart of thanks
We salute each member
of our armed forces.
And are thankful for their
efforts and resources!
We salute the many who
protect our borders too.
We’d be in trouble…
If not for people like YOU!
We salute every son and
daughter lost in a war.
YOU are what serving this
country is meant for!
We salute the officers who’ve
guided our women and men.
Our prayers are with you!
And our love from within!
We salute our veterans!
Wherever they may be!
Those who served on
land, air and sea!
Offering prayer to the
Lord is our belief…
That he will guide our
As we observe Memorial Day this year…
Let’s offer our soldiers
love, hope and cheer…
May God bless them in
all they endeavor
And his peace be with them
today and forever!!
By Jim Pemberton 05/21/10
Poem | |
To be in a young America ~
visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July
thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen
films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain
exciting new visions of creating new concepts
before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see
The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood
American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom
How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?
When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles
Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream
leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time
Cereal being a cheap snack for after school
school supplies costing twenty dollars
Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty
before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~
2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp
Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question
The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice
Never forgetting our Motor city
Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye
What happened to us ? Where did America Go ?
Poem | |
John F. Kennedy
The great 35th president of US
It wasn't really a success
He tried to stop the missile bases
There were lot of angry faces
When there was about to be a war
Peace was what he asked for
Texas was the place he was shot
Later, the criminal was caught
He didn't survive the pain
His people cried like the rain
Poem | |
They were Meriwether Lewis and William Clark,
Her name was Sacagawea.
On an expedition they did embark
Finding the passage to the sea.
Down the Missouri they traveled,
Then slithered 'round the Snake River bend.
Rocky Mountain weather and sickness battled;
At the Columbia River they'd end.
©2013 Honestly JT
Poem | |
America is not a Free Buffet
Loch David Crane, M. Ed.
Border Patrol Auxiliary
22 September 2008
America is not a free buffet
for benefit of those from far away.
We have our borders, customs, laws, and rules
securing our posterity from fools,
criminals, diseased people, and those
who mean us harm and carry bombs.
Malaria and leprosy are brought
by the undocumented who aren't caught.
The dumb, the desperate, or the diseased,
those lacking skills and schooling from "back home,"
all feel entitled through our fence to roam.
They break in here, and that's why we're displeased.
But those who choose to come here legally
have done it right, deserving to be free.
Poem | |
An old man looking out his door,
gaze fixed on a distant shore,
reminiscing to a time, not of happiness,
or, the prospect of a bright future,
to when he was sick to his very core,
to when as a youth, he went to war
A time before infallibility had meaning,
patriotism and bravado the craze,
the future was still unknown,
vigor for life at its all time high,
a time for romance, partying, buying,
no thought of pain, deformity, dying
Too young to understand or question,
ship to foreign shore, medals abound,
will impress the girls next time in town,
sacrifice not temporary,
a legacy etched into a wall, few will remember,
flesh shredded, burned, torn,
A time, when he willingly went to war,
will happen no more,
all lost in youth, now unrelenting,
no blind obedience,
long life, his number one ambition
As he turns back from the door,
he thinks of the youth,
here now, soon no more,
lessons never learned,
the call to war,
to common the roar,
complacency the mood,
another generation removed
The old man agonizes
over what was originally not known,
war is preventable,
life too precious to waste,
the solution simple,
his vision, maybe too late
Send old men to the front to fight,
arthritis, heart disease, poor eyesight,
let the youth enjoy their life,
his near over, its only right
Send old men, to the front, to fight
ask them to give up their life,
patriotism and bravado, still alive,
will and desire would not last the night,
old men do not rush to death in their twilight,
failure inevitable, the old man smiles,
knows he's right
Wars not possible,
if old men, are sent to fight
Poem | |
ERADICATING POVERTY, LLC
Verlena’s destiny calls for a perfected cause.
In aura of amazing grace via a walk of faith, is her voice.
At the Tombs of Saints, she proclaims her life and choice.
She will not be suppress.
She will uplift her existence to what is best, that which is rightful.
During colonial time, the thinking of man in this part of the world was based on intelligence.
He defined the structure for equality yet, enslavement.
He emancipated yet, civil entrapment.
He became mobile, nevertheless, systematic discrimination formed.
And, as all of this was taking place, founding fathers were manifesting destiny.
The lens of the future is today.
Hasten through transgression Verlena is anointed to be wise.
The knowledge endowed has awarded her insight to the Social Sciences.
She is the founder of a New School of Thought – The School of Social Theology.
Therefore, I am Social Theorem of today.
A Social Scientist generalization, which evolved from the acumen of history titivated.
Insofar, Verlena S. Walker will henceforward to remove the troubles of the world.
Therein, a socio-political socio-religious structure has formed.
Penned on November 4, 2014!
Poem | |
To USA from India
Greetings on your 235th Independence Day
You move ahead and move a little faster than before,
Your goals are still far ahead my friend,
Keep moving, even if you find the roads,
Not as smooth as it used to be in the past.
Just choose your new goals and friends carefully, and
Be careful in selecting new Goals,
Be very careful from those my friend,
Who may deceive or may overtake your good efforts,
While marching along with you on your way.
Some in this world still believe that everything is fare in War,
But unfortunately they do not believe in Love at all.
You have to do lot many things my friend,
While shaping the dreams of your people, and
Sharing your love and goodwill with those,
Who are really your well wishers and friends, but may be they are not
Walking with you, every time you move on a new road.
You have yet to win the hearts of many more,
Not by the powers of guns and your mighty force,
But by the power of freedom, Love and humanity and
The will to save this beautiful Earth.
These efforts would ultimately set aside, everything else, and
Would make your country not only prosperous and big.
But a Great Nation in true senses, my friend.
On this wonderful great day 4th July,
We sincerely give you our Good Wishes and Greetings to you,
O’ My friend, USA.
On behalf of the peace loving people of my country India.
Kanpur India 4th July 2011
Greeting of 4th July to all my Poetry Soup friends.
I am posting this poem from a cyber café due to phone line problem.
Poem | |
After so many countries, now in Syria,
Increasing is the western bacteria,
The bacteria of hypocrisy and lies,
Which is in a dangerous disguise,
Under the banner of help and peace,
They seems like a white fleece,
They do things very secretly,
Pursuing interests very actively,
What they want is just conflicts?
In the entire world's districts,
They like when people kill each other,
Its how indirectly they do smother,
Try to understand that what is a war?
Because it opens up the profits door,
For the imperialists and dictators,
And of course their very own creators,
When imperialists start a war,
They make sure that its paid for,
So they pose to help by selling arms,
As if they are selling them charms,
In return of arms they make money,
So much that its not even funny,
On the other hand people also die,
In the region where they don't comply,
They want the entire world to obey,
Their orders and want them to say okay!
As long as one stays this way,
A nice attitude they will display,
But for instance if one says "NO" to them,
At first they get angry and hem,
And then come bans and sanctions,
Penalties all kinds of aggressions,
And still if they are not successful,
They wage a war to make stressful,
So that's what they did in Syria,
It was their anger and hysteria,
Because they couldn't do anything,
And through a war they wanted to sting,
But they forgot that who they are facing,
And what kind of a enemy they are racing?
They already are, their army, replacing,
And because of defeats they are reducing,
The Takfiri terrorists they brought in,
Are ruthless and not even human,
They are ripping chests of people,
And eating their hearts like animal,
So west and its cruel tactics,
Has nothing to do with the ethics,
So once and for all everyone,
Let's finish savagery which has begun.
All rights are reserved. Syed Imon Rizvi
Poem | |
The Noose is tightening.
The 5’s and 10’s yanked from our hands and aching backs
Are spent on band-aids:
A last stand effort to plug the holes in our hearts
When the price of drowning is only getting higher
So we turn to tiny acts of thievery
Taxes prettied up, cashiers uncorrected,
Stealing at the edges because we’re backed into corners,
Glittering with promises corners
Dripping with possibility,
With Island resort wallpaper
Sold in bulk at Wal-Mart for
Profit: A trail of crumbs called America-
Which has curdled our souls and we love it!
And hate it and gossip about it and think obsessively about it and then
We find the most expensive friends our looks can afford,
Shopping for substance (50% off)
Staring through the eye of a screen
Light speed in pursuit of heaven on earth (Ignore the plastic)-
We die of ADHD.
Never having had the chance to smell the genetically modified roses.
Never having had the chance to see through this kingdom of ideas
As we served out our sentence to life in cubicle.
Poem | |
I’m from liberty and justice; kindness and sadness.
I’m from freedom and victory; presidential elections and offices.
I’m from celebration of freedom and fireworks; and a wonderful melting pot.
I’m from an eagle and an anthem, which happily plays on.
I’m from life and death, and of people of different descent.
I’m from the Show-Me State, upholding the motto “Salus populi suprema lex esto:”
The welfare of the people shall be supreme law.
I am of the Missouri Waltz, and of an Algonquian Indian word.
I am of farming and mining; aircraft equipment and cars.
I’m from an annexed Jasper County and Newton County; from Methodist congregation and zinc mining.
(A place I can hardly even remember, as it has been changed)
From Route 66, and historical background knowledge.
I am from devastation and destruction; death and injuries.
I’m from damage and regrowth; repopulation and help.
I’m from family and friends; businesses both small and large.
I am of silence and tears, and of federal disaster.
I’m from strength and dignity; perseverance and trust.
I am of murals and proud historic background.
Artifacts and messages, love and hope.
I’m from comedy and drama; friendship and bonds.
I’m from love and loss; football and cheer.
I’m from an academic and athletic strength; and from the A+ Program.
I am from Junge field, and brick structuring.
I am of theatre and JET-14; show choir, orchestra, and band.
I am of FTC and AP courses.
I am of loss and damage; devastation and irreparability.
I am from a temporary and split campus, and renovation.
I am from commencement, and uncommon maturity.
I am from a battered and bruised community, and a slowly growing voice.
I’m from experience and pain, hardworking and strong people.
I am of economic setback, and of pain and heartache.
I am of faith and trust, influence and beliefs.
I am of love and pain, sarcastic and snide remarks.
I am from life and death; adoption and birth.
I am from old and young; wrong and right.
I am from values and morals; beliefs and brief moments of laughter.
I am from tinkling of bells and the sound of dropped frying pans.
I’m from happiness and sadness; from the moon and stars.
I’m from Christianity; particularly of Pentecostal belief.
I am from the tinkle of a baby’s laugh and tears; of nieces and nephews.
I'm of friendship and hope..
This is where I'm from.
Poem | |
Moon of the night,
I wish you could sing
You're indispensable to my being,
You guide me through this land,
of sparrows and nightingales,
over the bottle-green grass,
rain or shine or snow;
You're there every night
and the wrens sing to you,
and pondering on their thirst;
and in your eyes they see,
a lovely face,
for you have a face,
like all moons,
but you have one face
A face that illuminates.
Poem | |
I support the law enforcement officers;
not the thugs, thieves, looters, arsonists,
and slimy demoncratic politicians
who are the biggest crooks of all.
Poem | |
They say that the only sure things
Are death and taxes
After gathering information and a bit of math practice and
carefully filling out the forms
And sending them in to various governments:
Federal, State, and Local;
After gathering resources and a lot of running practice
And carefully filling out the registration forms
And sending them in
For the Boston Marathon -
The end of the race would really be
The End of the Race?
As the runners crossed the finish line
And a few crossed over
No doubt, to cheering crowds of angels
And loved ones long past
This is fresh news; and no one knows
Who planted the bombs
They say that the only sure things
Are death and taxes
Who knew they’d both fall on the same day?
Poem | |
We hear that patience is a virtue
Is this true, or simply virtual reality
When leaders are teaching our youth;
do as I say, not as I do
Regression to a version of the American
Impatience is becoming intolerance
But to be patient is viewed as ignorance
In a blind world conforming to violence
Very few see need for benevolence
Many view crime as way of life
Government fuels fires, causing strife
Committing true crime with their lack of
Our country torn by those who lied
Promoting bigotry and distaste for the
But these days color and homosexuality
are lactose free
Intolerant of equality, it’s a problem,
Love is love, embrace the hate
Hold it tightly until it sees the light
Peace pushed just beyond our reach
We realize that “hope and change” was
just a speech
Wars raging through the land we call
In God we trust, not this powerful regime
Speak out now with virtuous impatience
Change is change no matter how small
Restore hope with unfaltering acceptance
Serve what you stand for, no time left to
Poem | |
Cars raced passed,
As I patiently waited,
Nervously filled with distrust.
At a crossing where safe crossing,
Is now indicated,
This courier of fortunes
Not yet out of luck.
I pick up my pace
Like a man on a mission.
My thoughts now a vortex
Of possible plays.
But to visit this office
A long planned decision.
The matter at hand
Sheer providence dictates.
The doors open freely,
I enter within,
To the cheers of firm staffers
And welcoming smiles.
Word had spread quickly
To my eyes and chagrin,
At the expense of my privacy,
My name now beguiled.
The anteroom sanctum
Filled with polite pushy haste,
Containing serious suits
Who’d not rise from their seats,
Till proof be their witness,
No moment to waste,
And the breech of my privacy?
Short apology, hurried movement,
And onward at a feverish pace!
Careful inspection and lens,
Quickly confirm my declare,
Faces stiffened to stifle,
The emotional urge;
To rejoice while an outside call
To far voices is made,
Numbers again shared,
One through six, double check,
Final digits confirmed.
Moods shifted quickly
As reality spawns.
To great cheers
And some fanfare,
Till ushered away;
With military precision,
And much tinted glass,
Police guarding me
From mayhem this day.
Since winning the big one,
I've gained many friends,
Among them some old ones
Who at best were estranged;
Now calling me sir,
With no memory of past,
Nine figures and wow,
Both handsome AND popular...
...finally, at last!
© Michael Wegman, 2014