In Vietnam we set the jungle on fire,
The leaves and branches melting like wax,
Candles blown out by blind war
Snuffing out the celebration of life.
I am not a patriot.
I kneel when called to stand
And rise when told to sit still.
I have no respect for flags
And those who wave them.
I saw the rose bloom in thorns, her petals pierced
And bloody, her scent metallic, her countenance,
Once sanguine, sanguine no more, but pained,
Burned by the sun, depressed by the darkness
That since that horrid November had blotted
Out the moon until even the owls ceased to hoot.
I write from bed today:
Charlottesville bleeds, bloody hands
That keep hope at bay
With a smoldering gun and smoldering sands
That pierce the breast and burn the feet
Of those who from injustice ne’er retreat.
America was born mulatto, stillborn
But for life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,
Aphorisms written in blood with hands trembling,
Terrified of the dark engine that drove
America, how I thought I knew thee well!
Land of the West, of golden gleaming hope,
Of the People’s answer to Dante’s hell;
We who with freedom and slavery cope.
Do not be fooled by the fool,
The man who flaunts and struts,
Whose words are empty but cruel
Like the waiting grave a genocide abuts.
Dear “Mr. President,” I have learned so much from you during your brief stint as “president” that I cannot help but write to enumerate the ways and to thank you for them, and I would be remiss if I didn’t start […]
Lost in the daily maelstrom that is the Trump Presidency, one defined by the behavior of an infantile, mendacious, bigoted, misognyistic, xenophobic jackass, is the troubling fact that nearly half of those who voted in the election voted for such a […]
When the threats rained down like lava
And forged fiery beaches of hate,
I took to the podium to smother
With love the fire into steam,
Only to hear they, the unaffected,
Say, “Let’s not get political.”