There is no peace without us.
The future is empty if we aren’t heard.
The lines drawn on those maps become fragile
the second you supress our voice.
You have turned the miracle of life
into a burden, a curse we carry
You hid your wrongdoings behind altars
that you used to trample over us
You have started wars and
sunk into madness when you lacked
closeness to us.
You did everything, except respect us.
Yet you so brazenly claim that we need you
you spent centuries convincing us we are submissive
but the message isn’t catching on
Have you finally gotten the point?
Don’t forget that my first novel is available on Amazon: Little Rebellion
Also you can get my poetry books: Rehab and Identity crisis
Good poem, it is the beginning of an onslaught against this fascist administration. Our voices must be heard in grater numbers than the Beats on the demoralized false puritanism of 1953-1964, after which the hippie years came on in loud, brilliant anti war and pro equal rights. You are welcoming the new ugly with the first line drawn and walked over just to give the ogres of maga a call to arms. They have not a chance if we deliver the whys, how, history and method to overcome.
They may have lost the ways of what is poem and to be poem in the frenzy of having something to say about the wicked Vietnam War, one worse than Korea, and the way they entered the arena as one voice pro equal rights, pro women’s rights, pro birth control, pro Kennedy, and then the Assassination years struck in ways of the horror so much more menacing than ever in the century.
Problem was that those years may have been one voice for many things they just could not compose great poetry. So, here we go, hi ho hi ho, and it ain’t pretty in any way. It ought not be well composed, nor well imagined. The scene, 21st century has not delivered. It is a disappointment in extremes that are stunning. It is stunning. It does not stun nor leave one desiring. We must have the reader, our loves and beloved must be stunned not silent but angry. Calmly overwhelmed.
There is no passing of the torch. There is no room for another herd of Bukowski-ites, no Jungians, no post Lifshin, no townie plastic brown framed glasses, radish tattoos, worn out LeviLee jeans and barista goatees. We just need to get over it, right? A new voice is called for, one that has perhaps been in at least one trap and rose up alive. Creating goofy needs and rapscallion groups passing a hat for tips and sneering at known hipster generation ones are just taking up space. Breathing air and drinking snarling hot and thick espresso does not make one a bean connoisseur. Maybe have a meet and greet with beans of the land.
Pool is open for all and appearance is just that, appearance, appeariong to be something but even they do not know, they just want to inhale the ways of revolutions beggining from within various art scenes not art to be seen. We, the WE of Americans who do love this country and have the knowledge and study of who is the enemy and what must be done to take them down. We have a good start seeing who they are and They are out to call war upon the masses, the masses in image are not the en masse among the many.
What is maga is a good start, and their leader is as weak a gander that one can find among the yearlings who are busy practicing their signature to be able to learn what is going on. We must begin composing great poems, prose poems, and stepping away from first year study groups from Intro to English poets in the 1600s. We must have the courage to fight bIf one does not understand the enemy then start over endangering y means of intelligence, study, knowing the enemy, truly knowing who they are and what they are going on about….going on and on and on and on and on and on and on and going on about a diseased upper class above that class who obey only what pays how much with what golden parachutes they build the package.
We are on our way, on our way to being a nation of disgusted with the old ways writers on this rotting land. Yours I have read, anticipating more, ready for more and a war on the billionaire class. The group who feigns class but still has to check their napkins to remember what they just consumed. Do not fear. We are one as the We I am speaking of is alive Art driven, ready to stop the nazi breed from becoming more. We must be heard and we must not shut up.
Your poem is a beginning, all good building blocks to hold up the groups to follow must be powerful without expressing who what how why new generations is overcoming the old. I look forward to what your poems have to say in the coming days. Be encouraged and challenged. Be the catalyst and thus without having to defend one word, let the Art do the talking not the Artist.
I enjoy reading your daily poem. What a fantastic way to jumpstart the ways of being your own poet. Be your own poet. To hell with those quoting Picasso and knowing not the why or for whom he was speaking. Carry on Luna, there is always a new phase on the way up against The Way.
It’s not just MAGA it’s all the evils of the world over. Luna speaks of centuries. To me this poem reads like a question of faith…how many more battles must humans wage against each other before full on extinction.