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Tired and Yearning

statue-of-liberty-tear-swscan04051

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”  – Emma Lazerous

 

Tired so tired

We need another golden door.

Our own poor masses

No longer can breathe

The toxic soup of lies

That spew from factories of hate

 

Refuse fills our beaches

While children drown

On other shores

Homeless walk the streets

Of every town

In our “good ole USA”

 

Time to huddle

Time to pray

Time to plot

And way past time

To lift our lamps

Raising our voices

High and clear.

 

Yearning

Working

To  dry the tears

Of our Lady, Liberty.

 

Zip Line

Clean and sharp as a zip line

The truth zings down

Old vines, twisted leaves

Can only cover

The truth so long

 

Fasten your harness

Carry water and snacks

It is going to be

An amazing ride

At a frightful height

 

Hold onto the truth

Hold onto the line

Balance is everything

Brute strength alone

Won’t keep us down.

 

 

 

Whitelash

The genteel become surreal

When white supremacy is named

Clash and slash

It’s a real whitelash

 

Why can’t we white folks

Understand

Its not about us

Our ideas our feelings

 

 

Listen learn

Center on the whole

Swallow defensiveness

And remember to breathe

 

Our advice is not needed

Our opinions are fluff

We can cheer brave folks on

Offer support and yes love

 

This whole world is a mess

But enough is enough

Resistance is reality

Breaking through at long last.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Boundless

My rage flows boundless

From the molten core of my heart.

 

How long

Will this go on?

How much

Can one soul take?

 

Ancient as the earth

The pain of war

Relentless as the wind

The chains that hold us all.

 

The sea overflows with our grief

For lost hopes

While the ashes of our dreams

Wash up on distant shores.

 

My rage flows boundless

The fire rises in my throat

Boundless yes

But silent?

Not.an.option

Anymore

 

Let the lava flow

Let it melt the walls

Release will ease our hearts

And quiet our fears

 

When the fires cool

Will there be a new land

Children safe at last

We are the ancestors

May we find the courage

To earn the future’s gratitude.

 

 

 

 

 

Morning Light

There is a special quality of light

As a new day dawns

The shadows are still deep

Danger can lurk undisclosed

 

But every budding leaf

Of each new tree is also revealed

Dew sparkles like shattered glass –

Or chains

 

Seize the day

Open eyes can

Bring about the dawn

There is nothing more beautiful

Than justice reborn.

 

 

 

 

 

Wheel of Justice

I wrote this back in May of 2006, during the Bush years.  Little did I know I would need it again.

Wheel of Justice

The wheel is rolling backward.

Listen to the voices shouting,

In anger and in rage.

The soft sobs at the end of the day

Echo through the valley of despair.

The city streets are baking,

The countryside is gray with dust.

There is a heartbeat Somewhere.

Feel it pulsing.

A small sprout of green

Rises up through the cracked pavement

A sparrow drops a seed.

If we cannot stand it

Then we have to stand.

 

If we cannot stand

Then we have to crawl.

Don’t wipe the tears.

Let them run

Through the fields,

Water for the crops

That we must grow.

The wheel is rolling backwards

But that doesn’t have to be.

First one

Then another

Yet another

And again

We will feel the good ache

Of holy muscles

Working with us,

As we place

Our shoulders to the wheel

 

Shattered Glass

The glass has shattered

But the ceiling holds

Rose colored spectacles

Are rimmed with blood

But still we can see

The sun shining

Beyond the poisoned skies

 

Hold my hand

My dear my love

Put on your boots

Protect your feet

As we move forward

Into a world

Of broken glass

To rebuild again

And again

And again

 

The Storm is Here

The winds howl in outrage

As the rain pounds down in pain

Our mother sobs

As her body turns to mud.

The oceans rise in protest

The glaciers melt in despair.

We can hunker down

But we cannot hide

Umbrellas are not enough

To clean the poisoned water

To heal our wounded earth.

Our prayers may help

If they inspire us

To turn this storm around.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dead of winter – a new year

I know why they call it

The dead of winter

The Christmas tree still stands

But it is dry and brown

Becoming a fire hazard

Before our rusty eyes.

 

The presents are all gone

Nothing left to unwrap but fear.

 

Lights still shine in the houses

But we no longer see the star

That bright hope and promise

A newborn babe

Peace on earth at last

 

It seems like it was folly.

In this dread time of winter

 

We await the new year

Not knowing exactly

What it will bring

But it doesn’t look good.

 

Let’s go back to Christmas

While we can.

It is far too long to wait

For Easter morning

And Hope’s sweet resurrection

We need it now.

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Facing Fear

I won’t run from fear

That orange beast that stalks my sleep

Claws trying to drag hope

Back into despair.

No. Just no.

We have been here before

This time we fight

Like life depends on us

Because it does.

Lives of children

Lives of black and brown folks

Lives of queers and Muslims

Lives of refugees and women.

For the life of our whole planet

This green precious globe

Will not be ravaged

No. Just no.

Not on our watch

Not this time.