Poetry-Thing Thursday: Duty and Honor’s Calls

The words of saints,
are written on the walls,
of political prisons,
and private jail halls.

We rose as one,
against tyranny’s fist,
200 years ago,
but now we hesitate to list,

those we know oppress us,
because their money and greed rule.
Man.
Woman.
Child.
Society their collective fool.

When will it break,
for the willfully ignorant?
For I attempt to change it,
with words that are not arrogant.

Many do not see its worth,
to that I have no argument,
because I know the truth,
and I hear the oppressed lament.

Do not mistake my words,
for the ravings of the belligerent,
they are rather pleas,
that with hope I’ve sent,

so that in time,
we may act as one,
and come together,
for sake of Earth and Sun.

Unite and rebel,
against those whom wish you ill,
but do it cleverly with words
and others shall join–
or at least I will.

For the words of saints,
are written on political-prison walls,
but they belong in our hearts,
along with duty and honor’s calls.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Trial by Fire

Trial by fire.
A fistful of ire.
Head in a mire.
A funeral pyre.
Entreating desire,
formed of a liar.

Feast on confusion,
for ignorance fusion,
is like a mental contusion,
wrought by collusion,
and the pitiful delusion,
of total inclusion.

The death of our choice,
has taken our voice,
and left to rejoice,
within a new Rolls-Royce.

It took along our freedom,
as lady-liberty went numb,
to keep from promoting ’em,
but they totaled her sum.

So now our country burns,
while Earth makes its turns,
and thinking-machines learns,
though they no longer yearns,
for the silence they earns–
we’ve seen Humanity’s urns.

We’ll all burn to ashes,
from those skeptical dashes,
whose freedom-check cashes,
from under us in flashes,
while violence mashes,
and against our heads bashes.

Our only option,
an unearthly concoction,
to launch us in auction,
of stars’ adoption.

So that one day we might,
put down the fight,
and shine out our light,
as beings of height.
What a lovely thought, right?