Only a moment
in time, outrage so profound,
turns nation around.
Unknown woman posts “I VOTED” sticker on Alex Pretti memorial.
Tag Archives: PETE HEGSETH
AMERICAN RENAISSANCE
The dark ages were not dark everywhere.
Light shown to the East, the South, and the West
while Europe cloaked itself in dark days;
as The United States of America does now.
Even camera crews have turned off light and sound.
And evil men and women try to rebound
by creating their own clown-faced muse
with his crypto, coins, twitter, and TV news.
These wanna-be strong-men turn away from the Light of Truth
forsake the Bill of Rights’ light once so very bright
with promise by all, for all, and to do all things right.
We watch all systems fail across airports,
roads, water plants, farm fields, schools and hospitals
and death becomes unleashed by ICE men
playing false as con-men overrule the Rule of Law.
Their appointed judges enact The Rule of Flaw
This may be America’s final straw;
judges sitting in dark court rooms
unable to see what facts there be
so precedence can be overruled
and lights kept turned off, but not for all.
January 6 criminals, rapists, pedophiles, and fraudsters are free
to roam in darkness so deep we cannot see
that none of us is allowed to remain free.
None of us are safe from deportation
to an unknown country, or to our own private hell
here in our own homes, on our own streets,
within our universities and our own communities.
The lights seem to be growing dim
as Dark Ages descend again.
Artists can paint, sculpt and write in the dark.
They see more clearly what is, and imagine what can be.
Their imagery is lightened within dreams and memory.
A new Renaissance can overcome such darkness.
It did so once. It can, again.
There should be no return to the old days, but a rebirth
of those ideals sought enacted by people of Earth,
when our constitution, its amendments and Judicial Act
were put in placed to support a Bill of Rights
to overcome dark night and shine a brilliant Light
across an entire world. Peasant freedom unfurled.
The work of artists is to bring forth light and right;
a Renaissance of love and peace, respect for all;
and, the courage to make things right.
Art and artists’ dreams dispel, like a liars’ tell,
shining light in the depths of these dark nights.
IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT
In the middle of the night
when darkness curries favor
with sleeplessness and fright,
I wander room-to-room
in hopelessness that dawn
will come bearing anything
more than false light.
Too many days of bold lies
called forth from the darkest
spaces of twisted minds
force us all to walk in darkness,
and into exhausted days unable
to perform the simplest tasks,
weary beyond all telling,
silenced senses yelling,
deadened and unfeeling.
To feel would be to die,
or die trying
to make sense of such evil.
The cost of others’ greed is too high
for men and women of conscience,
of even Mother Earth herself,
to survive.
There is no answer
to the question, “why?”.
And so, I continue to roam
dark spaces, seeking answers.
I am woke. I stay awake
to face dark days
and dark nights.
I roam looking for ways
to pull us all to safe spaces
where restful sleep may come.
ROCK-A-BYE,BABY
Get rid of the cradles.
Make America strong.
All day long,
the same twisted song.
No cradles for children sitting at their desk.
Run, hide, fight until your death.
No cradles for special needs learning.
Defund dollars which fulfill childhood yearnings.
No cradles for child workers at night.
Employ them younger and later, even on school nights.
No cradles for the hungry, the homeless and poor.
SNAP and low-income housing supplements are no more.
No cradles for immigrants, nor refugee asylum.
Go back where you came from. You are mere scum.
No cradles for a republic and voting rolls.
Gerrymander away voting rights, for sole control.
America is no longer the beacon of old,
no longer the cradle of democracy, so we are told.
America refuses to follow any rules.
The Rule of Law has become a dictator’s mule.
Americans are almost put to sleep,
distracted by fables, eyes nearly closed.
A nation of immigrants seeking their rest.
Too weary, now, to even try to do their best.
Their minds drift off as their eyelids drop.
Their minds close down as they simply stop.
Rock-a-bye, baby,
On the treetops.
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks
The cradle will fall.
And down will come baby
Cradle and all.
UGLY CHRISTMAS SWEATERS
Ugly Christmas sweater season has begun.
Americans seem to think it is fun
to dress themselves not in the season’s finest,
but in the ugliest sweater they can find
to celebrate together a sacred date
forgetting the solemnity of Advent’s long wait
to share with us a love divine.
Trees go up lit by flames to give us warning
that climate change may soon end
the faithful earth upon which life depends.
A cabinet full of ugly sweaters fills,
worn by those who think they are better
than faithful civil servants whose only goal
is to keep America safe and whole.
Executives dodging background checks
don the ugliest sweaters they can find
hoping to make a buck or two
off the game pitting us against each other,
me and you,
against all hope that we can survive
a very dangerous political ride.
The party which once celebrated
freedom and patriots’ pride
donned ugly sweaters when it realized
white control was on a slip and slide
with the rising hopes of women
and people of color’s growing pride.
The uglier the better the saying goes,
for Christmas sweaters worn by those
who forget the reason for a season,
forget the principles of a constitution,
forget the laws and regulations
which hold together a flawed nation
and allow democracy to thrive.
The time of ugly sweaters has arrived.
