Tag Archives: propaganda

NAVALNY

How difficult to embrace such courage ?

How easily to allow Putin to disparage

and criminalize political opposition?

And what is our position?

How hard did we fight to protect such bravery

from an autocrats utter depravity?

We watched Navalny return to Russia 

after being poisoned by one who would crush

a man with such courage and dedication

to the spirit of democracy and anti-corruption

in the same manner of Trump’s disruption

of our democratic republic’s election.

Trump would jail his enemies if he could.

“Lock them up”. His rallying cry would

encourage the cowards to pickup their guns,

their MAGA flags and clubs on the run

to the Capitol in open display,

or hidden in darkness as they prey

on election officials, prosecutors, judges, and jurors.

threatening all opposition to his criminal furor.

By all means send your political donations

to the RNC which pledges to destroy our nation.

And put another Putin in place here at home

where the deer and the antelope roam

across a country where freedom once ruled.

Stolen elections by a cowardly fool 

is a disgrace to America, land of the free and the brave

overrun by fools giving the OK to rule by the depraved.

Navalny, we stand by your grave with great respect and pray

that we can find the courage you displayed, every single day.

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Filed under POETRY, POLITICS

ELECTIONS 2024

Carnival rides at sunset by Marcus Burnette is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0

The election year carnival has set up on the town square.

Hawkers shout from every tent, “come try our wares.”

Games of chance do not come free.

Choices are forced by our monetary needs.
Every player needs tickets to play.

Too few funds shortens the stay.

The House of Mirrors is on full display.

But the images inside are shattered in the fray

of fast-moving events and fast-talking cons.

Bombarded by fractured light we simply go on.

We get lost amid broken images

with pattern-less scrimmages

as we move through mirrored rooms.

Our hearts pound out a sense of doom.

Anxiety reigns.This feels like no game

that anyone can win, nor simply gain fame.

This House of Mirrors creates fear

and makes each step too dear

to waste on those seeking our vote.

We respond to the loudest note,

no soft word can compete

as we close our eyes and complete

the winding route to the outside.

Suddenly, we just want to hide.

It is all too much to pay attention.

We are as fractured as the mirrors we faced,

mirrors which displaced reality’s space.

Down is up and up is down.

We search for a safe space with none to be found.

We are surrounded by the false laughter of clowns.

All we once knew to be true is turned around.

We yearn for past days when we stood on solid ground.

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AN ODE TO MIKE JOHNSON

A Speaker who speaks silently.

He hides in plain sight openly.

Bearing no color, chatting amiably,

amid many-hued others feverishly

there to cover stories that bleed wickedly.

He seems so normal; and, so confidently

preaches stories and fables smilingly.

Keeping all entertained endlessly

as their eyes fall from the prize of democracy,

Stolen and hidden in his wallet shamelessly

are votes cast, all hopes bashed easily.

He smiles calmly, benignly and evilly.

He leads as his party follows blindly.

Hiding in the spotlight openly.

His weight placed upon freedom crushingly.

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Filed under POETRY

POETRY’S PATH

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Poetry may hide under rocks, too.

Poems litter the path with words

often unattached

to any reality,

and blocking the way

to progress.

But, poetry exposed to the sun,

and shared with everyone,

opens up paths of discovery.

Poems can be used as tools

to bring back home

fearful fools

who climbed too high,

led astray by fraudsters

who use their fear

to build a gate,

and create hate

to block the way

to unity and community.

Our village awaits

the return of those who thus roam.

Let poetry guide you home.

Leave hate behind.

Make easier your climb,

unfettered by false letters

in tweets and squeaks

by cowards, hour upon hour.

Such false facts weigh you down

more than personal adversity.

Community will share the load,

no matter how hard your road.

Love, not hate, always finds its way.

Come home.

Come home.

Come home.

Today.

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STAND TALL

Photo by Julian Jagtenberg on Pexels.com

Where will be on Tuesday ?

How can we stand to see

the end of democracy’s vote

shredded by violent rhetoric

crushed like a skull

by hammers of deceit

and lies meant to overrule rules

putting power into the hands of monsters ?

Our Republic is being brought to its knees.

How will it stand strong 

under such assaults as these

threats to voters and election workers

and candidates and incumbents

whose only purpose is to bring peace

through ballot boxes instead of swords

wielded long ago, before our day,

to put in power those who would control

every hour of every day of every year.

If democracy falls to its knees

how will we, its greatest fans, continue to stand ?

We will stand, resolute and firm in our resolve

to stay standing through it all,

to never bend a knee to autocracy,

to never fall below the standards we have set

to remain civil and unbent

to prevent the loss of liberty

for people of color, LGBTQ, 

women, refugees, immigrants, and Jews.

Where will we be?

Standing tall, 

like the Madame Speaker’s husband Paul,

refusing to allow democracy’s fall.

Grab onto freedom and hold tight.

Tuesday will be a very long night.

“Look for the helpers”.

They are standing alongside us all.

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Filed under POETRY

CLOUDY DAYS

Photo by Anna Arysheva on Pexels.com

The rain came during the night.

Soft and silent blessings fell

to drench the earth

where mankind dwells.

But they slept on unaware

that helpful forces left a gift

to soften the soil

of hardened hearts.

They rose with the dawn,

faint light clouded over,

and misunderstood such peace

brought a chance to subside

the blazing heat of anger

in fearful eyes 

scorched

by staring at the sun

of a too-bright false sunrise.

Cloudy days ahead 

to soften the blow

when they awaken to the lies

that they have been told.

Every artist knows

one sees clearer

on cloudy days

when truth is crisp

despite the haze.

Or maybe,

because of it.

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Filed under POETRY