In a world increasingly reduced
To postures of virtue signaling
It’s easy to side with the vocal majority
Crying real tears, gnashing whitened teeth.
But despite the emotional appeal
Of whatever we’re confirmationally biased towards,
Real issues exist in real time
Needing to be judged on real pros and cons.
History after all doesn’t exactly repeat itself
As much as spiral around a central core
Of habitual patterns
And stubbornly persistent delusions.
The next time you feel
The tug of collective empathy pull
Don’t just look at the banner
Look at the hand that holds it too.
(9/4/25)
We are never Woke!
Cool, catchy, hip
neat sounding expression
but deceptively misleading!
Best we can do is rest,
shelter at a pillar of Awakening….
-----------------------------------
We choose our possessions --
Choose what possesses us --
The Devil, with his lures
of power and gem-my babbles --
Christ His promise of Soul
Liberation: ever higher expansion,
Awaking consciousness into spheres
of unimaginable cosmic spiritual
wealth – Christ, my heart lightener;
guide through shrouded corridors,
enraptured, trans-versing mystic chambers,
those sky-high mansions for initiate
flight. I become the Light-bearer! No captives in
Christ, only partners, who serve the Father,
totally dedicated to His Children's uplifting.
There are no dogmatic prisoners in
Christ. I follow Christ, who follows
God, joyful in a journey of unfolding
omnipotence. What Father wants
less for His Children than he has
For Himself? The Almighty, ever
present, ever loving, beneficent Great I Am!
“That’s woke,”
I heard the old man complain,
as he’s confronted
with an idea
different from his day.
“That’s woke,”
I heard a woman exclaim,
when asked to consider
a point of view
that did not reflect her own.
“That’s woke,”
a declaration of a generation
holding tightly to the old ways,
unwilling to listen,
resistant to change,
refusing to grow.
I woke up today reciting a rhyming poem
It went on forever, I forgot I was home
After reaching the bathroom, it evaded me.
I cannot even remember the subject after my pee
This epic poem must not have meant itself to be
Because I cannot remember for the life of me
anything about this epic poem that went on forever
when will I remember this sixty-five line poem? I guess never.
.
whilst nymph
hern
exaltant
rapt
')
This my friend's look, fresh of one
Charmed, and far away.
This my own wishful thinking
Which now has drawn in!
Piece by piece, glassy-sparkly;
Fragments of a dream.
Left me this picture to form;
Future lover's norm!
When the Earth Woke Singing
The sun came up, the day anew,
leaving behind the fresh morning dew.
The sky stretched endlessly and ached in blue,
making my grass and flowers stretch upright,
shaking off sleep in the morning’s hue.
While the sun shone low in the morning sky,
children emerged, wide-eyed and bright,
ready to explore and play.
Laughter and chatter could be heard near and far,
even before the day hid the very last morning star.
Before even the first cars and trucks hit the roads,
my topsoil had been pattered by bunnies and toads.
Then, as my roots unfurled to drink from the morning’s honeydew,
I again drank in the children’s hymn of promise anew.
Their shadows framed their joy, and the sun moved higher,
leaving my fields a tapestry ablaze with laughter.
Gina woke to find herself in a live nightmare. She saw six medieval byzantine soldiers marching down her street, what could it be. It was dark and black and white imagery. Trying to scream she couldn’t move. As they walked one turned and smiled at her. Why was he smiling. She had chills all over her body. She was trying to scream but couldn’t. Her eyes were fixed, staring intently at the danger.
The world is made up of two kinds
Masters and slaves.
It used to be masters ruled,
Now the slaves do.
As they say, it’s darkest before the dawn,
But sometimes the dawning takes forever.
Waiting, still waiting, for all those slaves
To awaken and become their own master.
At this rate, but I wouldn’t bet on it,
It’ll take a million years.
(4/12/26)
(“Nonbinary”, 2023, original encaustic)
We live in insane times
Which is a world apart
From living in sane times.
Now it pays to live in a bubble of woe
Struggling out in the open for all to see.
The Master Controller thinks it holds the key
Hell bent on bending the arc of reality
To suit its needs;
The need to be right, noticed and accepted
An Ego exalted on the throne
Of its own wretched delusion
But the definition of insanity is clearly
Doing the same thing again and again
Hoping for a different result.
No matter how much it bends
Reality always snaps back.
(2/15/26)
.
and that
yet
that wuz more
contagious
than this
and that wuz 'ready
dress'd
save the expose'd
intentionally
expose'd
'gain
eeny miny
meeny
no
I once agreed at the arrival of woke.'
I was relieved ( it had caught me up )
I was out in front for so long and had almost
Had lost hope.' But this conscious only
Lasted for a while.' Two decades passed
And i found all there had gone wild.! The
Idea-ology was morphing, yet had no growth.? There were calls to free cabbages
From soil druggery.' thats just my joke.)
Yet the greens.? Were now rampant we
see.' To think i
Advised? someone to become one of
them'
He achieved couincil status..I don't wish
to think! Look at this pile..Nothing it
seems can balance at all.' Humans being humans and
Power the thrall..It draws them; awes
them, and chews them up.'
To spit out a
Parody..Yet its still lapped up.? The joke is
Now flowing like sour milk, Clowns
just love it and there are many of that ilk.' The
Joke is upon us. All owerblown.' Dark and
Dismal upon such a plastic throne.)
A man got shunned from a haven
The host made rules that were craven.
Peers banned his prize joke
for fear of the woke
Proud noses were pecked by his raven.
NAMES SUCH AS LIBTARD
SNOWFLAKE AND WOKE IN THE YARD
NOW RAD LEFT SCUM CARD
(for Gad)
The Saad truth is the Woke Mind Virus
Has now spread far and wide
Across all demographics,
Although it’s clearly concentrated in some
More than others.
But as the good doctor also makes clear
There is a vaccine for this virus.
And it’s a bit like the 12 Step Program
Beginning with acknowledgment
Of one’s own Illness, infection,
And habituation to the doom and gloom
Of Woke’s existential dread.
And then what?
Well, whatever and however many
Steps you choose to do next
With honesty, integrity, courage
Humor and joy,
And, oh yes, don’t forget play.
(10/16/25)
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.