Panic at the dealers

I can’t breathe

The panic and fear are real

They are as tangible as an orange

Unappeeling, repulsive 

Unhinged.

The parade of white men

Lead the execution

Of the American dream

While I imagine their self-righteous glibness

Witness its display in expensive

Overly pompous pagentry

That only they appreciate

While I bargain and borrow to get

My car out of hock.

Revelation

Show me the place where they buried their young

Take me where they were refused their history unsung

Reveal to me the ground where the blood dripped dark

Unearth the bones of the fallen fathers and matriarchs

Disclose the disguise of those who committed theft of life

Expose their fraudulent actions; birth them through the afterlife

Shatter their shells of fragile proportions kept

Pull back the rugs where their dirty secrets were swept

Shine bright glare upon their truths yet untold

Release the spotlight of their staged exposure ever bold

Revolt against the tyranny that has entire families divided

Return them once again to their voices, forgiven and united.

Songs of Nation’s Pride

This poem was originally posted on April 16th, 2015 as part of a writing challenge. It seems to fit the mood I find myself in today. The day before the inauguration of Voldemort the Orange (my phrase) and his Plunder monkeys (Stephen King’s phrase).

I truly believed at my mother’s knee

That when I sang, “My Country ‘Tis of Thee”

The words I sang were truer than true

That if I bled for honor, it would be red, white, and blue.

But I’ve awakened to find a land divided

Bathed in disparity, desecration of what was once united.

I was taught at my Navy Veteran Daddy’s knee

That the Star Spangled Banner was to be honored deeply

That if I sang with truth in my heart

I’d stand united with my countrymen, never to part.

I believed in the land of the free, home of the brave

But I’ve awakened to find a land of the fee, home of the slaves.

I understood from my Grandparent’s legends

That America the Beautiful open armed beckoned

The words describing purple mountains and amber waves

Breathing life into the fruited plains of graves

But I’ve awakened to find a dying fracked rocky tops

Blackened drought plains laying desolate of crops

Where my family is from in Michigan The Rapids, la Grande

Makes me, all joking aside, a Yankee Doodle Dandy

Where the emblem of, the land I loved

Was supposed to be where there’s never a boast or brag

But I’ve awakened and I’ve found this only applies to non-fags

If you’re slightly brown skinned or poor, they turn you away

Ain’t nobody got time for that, they’ll remove you from society’s gray.

I am all yours

Go ahead and take

everything that you want

You can do anything

that you want to me

I am all yours

Be the one who is

everything that I need

I’ll give you anything

that you want, my love

I am all yours

Understand that I promise you

whatever you ask of me

I can’t go back to then

when we fought so hard

when we nearly lost our we

Take my hand and I’ll give you

peace of mind trusting us

Together we’ll move on

forward through our life

breaking the world for us

Imaginary Wings

There are angels among us with imaginary wings

Their holiness is tied on with duct tape and strings

The words they may sing are littered with verses

That may sound quite a bit like unholy curses

Their divinity true if not a bit tarnished

Their brassy demeanor with scriptures varnished

You may not believe that they’re here to protect

Their offerings of prayer are effortless to reject

If your heart is opened to the blessings they give

You’ll never be without as long as you live.

Facing faces of my family

I have stood within the fires of my community

Feeling their judgement with their vigilant scrutiny.

My skin has been scarred by the guilt of my actions

Withdrawing, re-birthing, questing my faction

I have stood dripping the blood of my kin

The impression of their prudence slicing at my sin

My spirit fiery with the perdition of my birth

Refusing their wisdom, not knowing its worth

I have slithered slyly a slippery slope

Seething such squalor swiftly to scope

My disdain for the mundane, my refusal of love

Was my born albatross that I couldn’t get rid of

But now I have faced the faces of my family

I’ve found them not to be of my enemy

I’ve been wrapped in the warmth of hearth-side chats

Covered in the laughter of loving habitats

Return to the tribe, return to the fold

Swallow your pride, be not undersold

Be everything you are without any fear

Because those that love you will hold you dear.