I see now why the first deities were female.
Only a woman speaks to the soul of birth
and breathes new life into
every soul on this beloved earth.
Goddesses with distended wombs
weighted with hopefulness
are found in every ancient tomb.
Our future had seemed lost.
The entire world seemed doomed.
Death in every household loomed.
A globe on fire steeped in hateful rhetoric
gunned down every effort to escape
a despondent, hopeless fate.
Covid stole the innocence
of even those usually sitting on the fence.
No one was content to wait and see
what November wrought for democracy.
Moneyed oligarchs of greed stole hope
as well control over justice with abuse of power.
Federalist Society Judges delayed justice
hour after hour after hour after hour.
Even the Supreme Court undermined
the Constitution which is yours and mine;
not theirs, not wealthy donors, not those in power.
Then she, she, she, she, she, she, she
took the torch and raised it high.
Emma Lazarus’ female guards our harbor.
Kamala guards us in our darkest hour.
Her smile and laughter brings us
up from our knees, our prayers answered.
A goddess has arisen and made a fuss
of all the lies and hate-filled derision.
Her solemn promise made to us
that she will fight at our side.
She will tan the evil-doers hide
as mothers have always done,
chastising our sins one-by-one.
And so we rise with delighted surprise
to shout as one that we are not done,
and we are not going back where death resides.
We are going forward where life begins.
To a place where elections are open to all.
To a place where life is treasured not spent
on greed and control and all that is indecent.
We are headed to the polls to give our consent
to a mother goddess from heaven’s descent;
called by Joe’s prayers, who always seems to know
what we need and whom to follow.
annarino writes 
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.
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