Surviving the Plague

Around Thirteen hundred and forty-five
In Genoa, a ship arrived
With sickly crew barely alive

Quayside the barque was ill at ease
The smell of death was on the breeze
A town brought down by rats and fleas

Bulbous from bacteria in the bite
Of the fleas put the metropole to flight
Initiating the darkest medieval fright

From Genoa like a martial plan
The plaque marched ruthless across the land
Soon to Florence and Milan

Civilization came unbound
A third of Europe could be found
Far too soon planted in the ground

The Black Death brought in its aftermath
A new human value that set the path
A society reforming millennial bath

A renaissance came to be
For learning, for arts, for industry,
The breaking of feudalism and the setting free

Of hearts and minds and the labor of men
The Disease is not how this story ends
Catastrophe allows for greatness to begin

The story is bleak but also true
Europe recovered and we will too
Perhaps to a renaissance anew

Let us not fear or worry or doubt
Let our revival be what we are about
To be better people when our plague plays out.

Under Pressure

Under Pressure

Running away,

Hiding in squares,

Churches, attics,

Cemetery, trunks,

The crawl spaces

Under the stairs.

Lungs burning,

Electrocuted,

Pressure boiling

Like kettled air,

Forced through

Narrow confines.

The wheezing,

Sharp whistle of

Ghosts escaping

Seeping sucking

Chest wounds.

Gases expelled,

Corpses return,

Of pleural space

to Earth and sky.

Pews, headstones,

Boxes and rooms.

Heart chambers.

But round flesh

Cannot conform

To hard corners,

The rigid edges,

Or square spaces

Of men we love.

Click

A three second video,

Of kids in Tal Abyad,

Today, daring to peek,

From behind the wall,

Towards the smoke,

Linked on twitter,

Where we are safe,

Off the news pages,

With the banners,

Waving- Warning!

Disturbing Images!

You can click to open,

Or to make it go away.

But that’s not a choice,

For kids in the street,

Who have to know,

Who died today,

Who cannot go,

CLICK.

Philosophy More than Poetry

Gate to Seoul
This is not a poem to glorify war
Though it may seem that way
To those who do not know
What we know
(Oh, what we know!)

This is not a poem to praise America
Though it celebrates an idea
That once was
And can be again
(Liberty Enlightening the World!)

This is not a poem to castigate anyone
Though it may burn
And stick in the craw
Of many who read it
(Ruminant fiber for our system!)

This is a poem about the lethargy of excess
And the revolution it spawns
In the belly of the hungry
Because inequality breeds contempt
(Desperate people doing desperate things!)

This is a poem asking people to wake up
And understand what is happening
As binary politics and policies
Rip us apart as a people
(Divided electorates are divided and conquered)

This is a notice that we are in a psychological war
For the soul of what it means
To be a People, United
Americans
(The City on a Hill!)

We the people have been sold
As an offering
Fattened Cattle
On the altar of prosperity
(Lambs to the slaughter!)

In our national capital and statehouses
They gerrymander away
Our Freedom, our Voice, our Future
For profit and power
(Litigious society in chains!)

On the newsroom floor they package infotainment
Having nothing to do with keeping the people informed
Better to keep them enflamed
So that money keeps pouring in
(Ignorance makes the chains feel lighter!)

On their “smart phones”, the people play games
Content in complete ignorance
Watching gladiators in the arena
As Rome burns around them
(The Republic becomes an Empire)

Barbarians at the gate, look on in approval
As the empire consumes itself
Rome’s “Crisis of the Third Century”
Alive and well today
(Where is Marcus Aurelius, our philosopher? Vegetius our reformer?)

Army marching victoriously to battle to battle
Winning with great violence
Unchallenged at sea or in air
Yet losing war after war
(Strategy that can’t survive an election cycle is no strategy at all!)

Trapped by Thucidydes against all comers
Active foreign policy everywhere
Stretched beyond our means
Undermined by friend and foe
(The strong do what they will, the weak suffer what they must!)

And so it comes full circle back to We the People,
Who revel in our ignorance
And allow our politicians to poison us with bad policy
Putrid meat flavored to tastes like honey
(Buying up our favor with scraps of cake)

Unless we awaken from our slumber
And take back our birthright
First will come the Revolution
Then the Thermidor
(Our vanity a bonfire, Liberty Enlightening the World)

The Meaning of Words

The SDF who fought ISIL,
Are now called terrorists.
State news said “neutralized”
When 300 Kurds massacred.

A bloody military invasion
Is “establishing a safe zone.”
14 Kurdish cities- “liberated”-
Are now under foreign rule.

Turkey’s nemesis in Pakistan
Offers Erdogan his “full support.”
NATO urges Turkish “restraint”
The Arab League urges the UN.

The EU cries refugee “blackmail,”
But 6B euros to keep them out.
DoS hasn’t seen “significant”
Examples of ethnic cleansing.

Doctors without borders, fled.
100,000 civilians “displaced”
To join the already 700,000
Requiring food aid in N. Syria.

Operation Peace Spring
Is a bottomless well of war.
Because there is no meaning
Left in the words of men.