Words fail to awaken on the page
when words fail.
Words dreamlike fight rage
in nightmarish schemes
when words fail.
Before Liberty shut her eyes,
and with despairing cries,
fell into freedom’s now-unsafe harbor
words gave us wings to fly
and above all troubles soar.
Now, words shut down
as they are shot down
as all around us words are bound
with hateful cruelty
demanding fealty
to lying thieves
upending beliefs
in a common humanity.
It is sheer insanity
and words fail to do it justice.
Lower courts words fall before SCOTUS’s lust
for false security, the only surety
that this is how nations fall into the dustbin of history.
Words are buried so deep
they too soon fall asleep
to escape the pain of obscurity.
That the people rise
is no surprise.
Whose words will act as guide
to peaceful resolution
and a safe conclusion
to those shoveling dirt into our eyes
and blinding us to truths that must not subside
into a deep sleep
to avoid seeing those who weep?
Who will speak now?
Is anyone still awake, still woke?
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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