The righteous will say,
No closure for the wicked
No rest for the hordes
Rail on for justice,
For resolution’s balance
For a sign of peace
Dove’s wings are tangled
Within the hawk’s taloned fists
Your closure, his claws
I began writing about one kind of closure, but my words wandered into a different place.
Peace, people.
I heard him before I saw him
Loud pipes announced his impending arrival
As I angled into the left turn lane
He came up on my right side
Big truck with bigger tires
A veritable fortune invested in chrome
Two flags waving proudly from the truck’s bed
Two expressions of his rights
One flag displayed the Stars and Stripes, a noble symbol.
The other, the Gadsden Flag: “Don’t Tread on Me!”
The flag hoisted by the alt right.
What an overcompensating loser, I thought.
Mouth breathing, Neanderthal, I added for good measure.
But even in that moment I acknowledged his right to express his feelings.
Was he offensive? To me, most definitely.
But did he have the right to offend?
Beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Protest should make us squirm.
Otherwise, it’s merely the status quo.
Dissonance, we’re told, followed by harmonic resolution, heightens emotions, takes us beyond the ordinary.
One chord away from our comfort zones, straining our understanding, challenging our deepest beliefs.
Every piece worth keeping keels on an edge of unease, hiding a slip of protest between the lines, so we may join the refrain.
I slept for forty years
My eyes closed to injustice
But I’m awake now
Patriotism
Might mean kneeling in protest
Soldiers bought that right
We might not condone
The paths these protesters trod
But their rights remain
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
Good women, wives, and mothers,
Sisters, daughters, and the men
Who love us
When we march God smiles upon us
In all Her glorious grace.
You can’t contain our spirit,
Or silence our demands; we’ve come
Too far to turn back now
And this sky remains the limit
Bountiful stars mark our vow.
What will hold us up
When the columns have crumbled?
When the pillars fall?
We took for granted
Truths that no longer hold firm
Cracked foundations all.
Will we then be rocks?
Stanchions raised in proud protest,
Resistors indeed!
Stand, don’t ask
Pledge allegiance,
There’s a good boy!
Otherwise, those
Flag toting
Patriots cry no joy.
Never mind that
Soldiers died for
Your consecrated right
To speak your mind
Wrapped up in the
Constitution, tight.
Unblinking, unthinking
Loyalty to words
Written by a racist
Sing them anyway,
“Oh say can you see”
That doubts persist?
Courage lies within
Your conscientious
Objection,
Yet some say
Your rights unworthy
Of protection.
Screw that,
Give ’em hell
Stick to your guns,
Wrap yourself in the
Words of our founders,
Amendment number one.
Praying for Eyebrowz 