Get Your Premium Membership

Moon Tuning

Poet's Notes
(Show)

Become a Premium Member and post notes and photos about your poem like Millard Lowe.


Moon Tuning…

 

        Peeping down through

        the closed blind,

        reflecting moon spy-tease

        the created mind;

        manipulating the running

        of ebony-hued time,

        trying to canvas a poem

        with lines that rhyme.

 

        Now if you knew how to rap,

        this would be a snap

        but it’s not so easy

        in the wee hours, without a nap.

        Yet, when you’ve survived

        the trials of another day,

        It’s not really that hard to scribe

        what you need to say.

 

        Here in the home of the brave

        and the land of the free,

        we have yet to cave

        racism and abject bigotry. 

        While cold war debates

         continue their drum major runs,

        sacred lives remain victims of hate

        and free-firing lawless guns.

 

        No longer can we let the fearful minority

        keep us in such dire calamity.

        Like the ancestors dead and gone,

        we too must fight against evil and wrong;

        rising up and claiming our prized liberty.

        Let us not leave coming generations

        without worthiness and high hope.

        Let us not insult our ancestral patrons  

  who fought and won the right to vote.

Peeping down through the closed blind, reflecting moon spy-tease the created mind; manipulating the running of ebony-hued time, trying to canvas a poem with lines that rhyme. Now if you knew how to rap, this would be a snap but it’s not so easy in the wee hours, without a nap. Yet, when you’ve survived the trials of another day, It’s not really that hard to scribe what you need to say. Here in the home of the brave and the land of the free, we have yet to cave racism and abject bigotry. While cold war debates continue their drum major runs, sacred lives remain victims of hate and free-firing lawless guns. No longer can we let the fearful minority keep us in such dire calamity. Like the ancestors dead and gone, we too must fight against evil and wrong; rising up and claiming our prized liberty. Let us not leave coming generations without worthiness and high hope. Let us not insult our ancestral patrons who fought and won the right to vote.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things