Long Vigilantes Poems
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1. Big Brother
Big Brother's protecting his mice
with a secret eavesdropping device.
If you hang up the phone
he'll just send in a drone
when a warrant won't really suffice.
2. Neutrality
The internet's meant to be free,
yes for all, such as you, such as me.
But now there's some doubt -
will it lose all its clout
with the death of neutrality's spree?
3. Privacy
'twas surely our forefather's dread
all our emails would someday be read.
Now that push comes to shove
by the powers above,
private thoughts must now stay in our head.
4. Guantanamo
Guantanamo bay's a resort
where the fishing's a fabulous sport -
with your back on a board
tepid water is poured
spawning tales for a kangaroo court.
5. Banks
To bountiful bailouts give thanks
for there's nothing much richer than banks -
making money galore
taking homes from the poor
while they're managing mortgaging pranks.
6. Health
If you live in the States don't get sick
(lest a cut of the upper class clique).
Whether injured or ill
all they'll give you's a pill -
if you're lucky you'll surely die quick.
7. Economy
Our economy's doing just fine
lying dead with a slug in the spine.
So come follow the call
where there's money for all
and pure profit's the bottom-most line.
8. Safety
Vigilantes and cops are wide spread -
as for justice… not even a shred.
The avengers of right
score when stalking the night
so beware of a cap in the head.
The truth has turned to fiction
Lies are stated as if they’re fact
While overzealous politicians
Stab one another in the back
Right and left are being polarized
There seems to be no middle ground
In a world becoming globalized
No unification can be found
Vigilantes patrol neighborhoods
Killing young men fitting profiles
Thoreau is lost in Walden’s woods
Lady Liberty no longer smiles
We’ve become a litigious society
People wanting hand outs from the court
Religions have lost their piety
If this were a mission we would abort
Silent remains the majority
Wealth is distributed to but a few
We need a healthy dose of some purity
To grab a hold and pull us through
In the end it is up to all of us
To find the humanity within our soul
And in each other put our trust
So we can all reach a common goal
Like a gecko, that one changes their colours
speaks in tongues long then short blue
climbing up and down walls clicking
translating the draconians’ poetic profusions
all are night creatures in the absence of light fluctuations
they scurry along the cracks over the white and the black
5 fingers 5 toes, quite quite reptilian,
efficient in the chosen environment, useful,
amusing a muse, then, when the mourning sun rises,
contradictory, scurrilous, misplaced, undeniably ugly,
yet cute
Night creatures, light framed
lone vigils, velvet skinned strict vigilantes
on all fours preying Carthusian monks
nakedly bathed in absinthe chartreuse
through their clicking chants, looking for true
through the glass onion
peeling back layers
shedding skin
on a wall
5 fingers, 5 toes
amusing a muse
Candide Diderot. ‘24
sadeness.
enigma.
(Note: This poem was written shortly after the 2022 Olympics and after Richard Branson and Jeff Bezos rode their rockets in a new space race for billionaires.)
Races
By Mark D. Stucky
Our country had a Space race
to beat Russians to the moon.
Decades ago, we left lunar footprints
and brought back rocks and selfies.
Rival billionaires build rockets now
for suborbital joyrides above.
We periodically join Olympic races
to go fractionally faster than others
for prestige and multi-metal medals.
Hosting countries spend billions
to applaud athletic bodies.
But for all that cash and hype,
we get no cure-for-cancer hope,
but viral spread and doping.
Our world needs better races
toward things that truly matter.
We require a Race race
to travel much faster
toward equity and healing
than ever gone before.
While we wish for a quick sprint,
a marathon is what we’re running.
Ending slavery long ago,
this race’s qualifying heat,
was just one stride
beyond the starting line.
Jim Crow still taints the track.
Systems still are prejudicial.
Supremacists still conspire.
Voting rights still are suppressed.
Vigilantes still chase and shoot.
Police still harm the unarmed.
This crucial marathon
has many miles to go,
but if we struggle to the end,
contenders might all be winners.
(Originally published in Small Town Anthology VIII: Entries from the Eighth Annual Tournament of Writers, Vicksburg Cultural Arts Center, 2022. See also my poems "Closed Community Prejudice (an Alphabetized Memoir)," "Weapons of Wonder," and "Hate Vacuuming?")
(Image by Braden Collum on Unsplash.com.)
Moss Cowed Covenant I Keep Putin Off...
For preservation, salvation,
and veneration, though with hold
ding temptation two mike
pence sieve lee clear,
to immoral majority mold
toot hoods, (those bajillion
Americans unanimously polled)
did want me to broadcast, communicate,
and declare, sans mock cut up fold
drawl migrant accent,
(no matter I'm getting old),
nonetheless Ivana trumpet from Taj Mahal
straight to Mar-A-Lago) all told,
plus thank commensurate Republicans
(past or present), who extolled,
an invisible grandiose fire walled
barricade (donning, enclosing,
and fortifying) against Carl mauled
din lookalike hackers,
despite one sporting "FAKE"
hook nosed, hunchbacked
donned with torn (Turin) shawled,
shrouded, and disguised vagrant, indigent,
double chinned agent – bald
(except for being bewigged),
viz flowing locks of "FAKE" gold
in toe with Amazon heavily funded
unbridled trailing retinue
chanting appellation Matthew
Scott Harris alias Oswald),
no matter said faux
renegade twittering lobbyists
flock (like lemmings) within his fold,
and will happily, laughably parody
any vigilantes spot on cold,
what with his bugs
bunny eyed (What's up Doc)
intent reader rabbit stare,
that doth playfully scold
any Bare Ladies scantily
linkedin, NOT nsync
with netiquette politesse mold
dinned communication, (asper
my pork chopped message
higglety pigglety divulged)
obeying tacit gold
din rule to hoodwink public, nonetheless
lemme exemplify, how
Democrats plan to hold
world web hostage
by secret Ransomware sold,
thru dark web bitcoin blockchain trolled
to collude with "crooked Hillary"
under Ponzi scheme auspices doled
courtesy, sans spongebobsquarepants
omnipotent NON GMO
gluten CRISPR rolled
oat sized INTEL nanobots,
no bigger than mold
spores heavily scrutinizing,
policing, monitoring and
fortifying electronic Internet scaffold.
Words fail me
When I think
About the abortion law
In Texas
That effectively bans abortion
And empowers vigilantes
To enforce their new
Taliban like decree
And I think of new restrictions
Texas is thinking about
Criminalizing abortion
Including the death penalty
For doctors and woman
All done the proponents claim
To empower women,
To protect woman
As they violate
Their basic human rights
All promoted by Christians
Showing once again
That many so-called Christians
Violate the core principles
Of their faith
In short
The new law
Is an abortion
And it is hard
To remain silent
Any more
Stop! The violent protests and leave peaceful protesters out to make a difference strictly along. Whether you are in law enforcement or the national guard. You need to pray for peaceful solutions! But if all you want to do is assault police officers. Or if protesters burn down business and destroy personal and real property. If you want to incite rioting and violence! You need to be apprehended! I am sick and tired of racist police officers using African American males, Hispanic, and Native American males as "target practice" or unlawful harassment! Black Lives Matter! Today the city of Houston is holding memorial ceremonies for George Floyd. They firmly believe the time has come for closure and for our nation to move forward.
I am sorry about what happened to George Boyd and other minority groups! But letting your explosive anger erupted like a volcano! That Minnesota police officer committed nineteen years of similar acts of racism and violence. He just happened to get caught in the act! He never should have been admitted to the police academy in the first place! The other officers just stood there and watched! It was a national tragedy! In London England, Black Lives Matter are conducting peaceful protests in solidarity with the United States!
Some groups will use any excuse to riot! Some police officers will use any excuse to commit acts of violence! I firmly believe in peaceful protests! Unfortunately, they often end up in tragedy! One bad reaction by one or more groups leads to retaliation by the opposition! Resulting only escalating violence! The president wants to call out the United States military. And it will happen unless senseless acts of violence come to an abrupt ending! The Beatles once sang, "come together right now over me." "Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me."
Stop! The senseless acts of violence! Private citizens even in communities such as Snohomish Washington! Are arming themselves, and standing outside of the business to protect them. They are citizens vigilantes. They want to stop looters and vandals in their tracks! In the days of the old west, there used to lynch mobs! We do not want the bad old days back again!
Love as always,
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
June 02-03,2020
June 09, 2020 edited
Words in the Wind
By Mark D. Stucky
Winds carried away the words
that Jesus, the Word made flesh,
wrote in the dust,
while sitting near a trembling woman,
who was the accused,
who was bait in a trap.
“Adultery! Law! Stone! Death!”
Harsh words hurled by vigilantes,
hushed by the breath of a single sentence,
“Let the person who is without sin hurl the first stone.”
Words from the only one who was without sin,
and the only one who did not condemn.
As accusers slunk away,
he wrote more in the dust.
What were those ephemeral words,
mysteries lost to history?
A list of the accusers’ hypocrisies?
Words of justice and mercy?
Ashes to ashes. Words to dust.
In our dustbins of history,
what do we ourselves write?
What will sum up our lives’ words
before they are lost to the world?
Words of division, judgment, and hate?
Words of healing, mercy, and grace?
Will our words hurled
into the world,
resemble swords to wound
or salve to heal?
Will our words, blown by the wind,
be words written without sin?
(First published in Clay Jar Review, 17 Aug. 2022. This poem ponders the mystery of what words Jesus wrote in the dust as recorded in John 8:1-11. See also my poems “Margin of Error,” “Weapons of Wonder,” and “What Would Jesus Tweet?”)
(Image by HG-Fotografie on Pixabay.com.)
“Tubman”
What colours a heart
courage?
What colours a mind
belief?
What colours a soul
unity?
Underground
we carry torches
from station
to station
We are the Light
We Lead
No colour
No religion
No epic
delusion
Where is the race?
The race to confusion?
We are One
You and me
We are One
We all bleed
Underground
we carry torches
from station
to station
Poets grieving
Vigilantes seething
Electric conductors
of Love
punching tickets
elevate the fire
Light rises
out of the numb
sacrifice the smallest
midst mountains of Moriah
signals waking
signals waving
Freedom
Glowing
Colours are All
Colours
Ultraviolet
magnetic to spectrum
silent tapping, unheard
sometimes seen
no snake doctor lectern
truth burns
souls bound to each other
all grieving
in one way or another
we all learn
Hearts beating
Lungs breathing
signals waking
signals waving
platforms all crowing,
now eyes open
listening,
debating
all signals waking
new story weaving
Souls searching
Souls kneeding
Light now is calling
Light now is leading
Tubman is not
dreaming
(LadyLabyrinth/ 2020)
“Any cause needs speakers and organizers.
Any mass movement requires
women and men of great ideas.”
Tubman, Harriet.
Harriet Tubman is sometimes referred to as the Moses of her people because of the way she led them out of slavery. The Underground Railroad operated at night. Slaves were moved from "station" to "station" by abolitionists.
In the shadows of a distant village,
By the light of a Crescent Moon.
With death in the air, vigilantes swear,
That vengeance will be coming soon.
With hate filled hearts and eyes of fire,
They all gathered as a ship of fools.
They knelt to pray, had little to say,
Only the doctrine that the mob rules.
The crime on the docket was read,
The murder of the preacher's son.
Like a pack of hounds, they made their rounds;
And the search of a suspect begun.
Their madness had grown to a frenzy,
So uncaring of wrong or right.
Now covered in sin, the verdict was in,
Someone's blood would be spilled tonight.
For most of the evening they sifted,
Through every nook and cranny in town.
Not sensing danger, a passing stranger,
Was the one they chose to put down.
He was carried and tied to a tree,
They all laughed as he begged and pleaded.
Beaten and battered, nothing else mattered,
But to seek the justice they needed.
Repeating the most medieval ways,
Their methods and deeds were unsound.
But to no surprise as the sun would rise,
An innocent man would lie on the ground.