FIGHTING WORDS

Poetry has fled.

Art hides in plain sight

behind clouds of flame,

beyond winds of change,

before plutocrats take the stage,

no longer waiting behind the scenes

which hide their rage.

Words have lost all meaning

when facts go unchecked

flung too fast to sustain truth 

and belief in its power to right wrongs

for the weak and the poor, 

tossed aside by courts which cower

fearing loss of wealth and power.

Which words are safe when lies procure

the party in power’s silent vote to score

total control of each life, each thought,

each breath threatened by dirty schemes

to pollute the earth, water and air?

Words cannot be spoken, claimed by death

of the rule of law.

No words exist to describe the depravity

some of us saw

as our words lay dying

first inside

then outside

where meaning can be lost.

Words remain frozen in heavy frost,

weighed down by cold hearts

and dead souls

seeking total control.

Freedom resides in words

which too often remain unsaid.

Words too softly spoken to wake

those asleep, escaping, all hopes dead.

Too few words of truth must compete

with an onslaught of unchecked lies.

I listen and watch, lost in thought.

I write and I plead against what we have wrought.

Poetry, I fear, carries too-little weight.

Poetry, perhaps, has waited too late

to escape the threat when so many lies

have buried the truth for power and greed.

Money has always been the creed

clothed in religion and faith

which grants God’s grace

to those who deserve to see His face

on dollar bills and hung on towers.

False gods seek our praise as they devour

a country whose best citizens 

refuse to use their power to remain free,

and would rather lose their democracy.