We the People

We the People know not
of what we speak
or of what the ubiquitous
‘others’ say, mean

We the People
have become a nation
of naysayers
with little rationale we deny
climates, pandemics, others
not like us
who do not exist
who do not deserve
who do not conform
who do not

Our scientists, ridiculed
medical advice, shamed
no one is trusted
everyone has an agenda
working against
those who feel what
they exist as
they deserve
they conform to
puts them above those
who do not

We the People
are stuck in a season of
irrationality
that shows no sign of
giving way to a new
enlightenment
a more
reasonable way
a less
confrontational form
of disagreement

We the People
have become a totally
distrustful lot
and are the lesser
for not seeking to hear or
understand
the details
not just the headlines of
those not to our
liking, way of thinking

We the People
don’t get it
don’t want to get it
we want to be angry
want others to grasp
our rage
we lash out instead of
bring in
accuse in place of
empathize
most because we just
don’t get it

We the People?
This is the winter
of our disconnect.

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2020
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

In peace

I used to

Dwell in the hate
That it consumed me

Depend on nice words
That it inflated me

Until th venom
Crushed me
And the ego
Shattered me

I am…
Humbled
Forgiving

At peace.

hour 8 poem

Need Want

What

we want

we confuse with

that which we need.

I have done this thing.

Our wants become our needs.

This is human nature’s way.

We all seek for a better life.

if you agree or not, truth is,

better is having more wants after needs.

 

Hour 7, Prompt 7 – Season of the Changing Winds

Season of the Changing Winds

 

She has heard your heart before you

and understood what it has whispered

You will feel her on the breeze

That quickly comes big sister

 

Decisions that you’ve yet to make

when she is on her way

Will be escorted to the grave

The thrumming of the crimson king will say

 

She comes dancing righteous rage

to cut deceptions grown too tall

with beloved machetes gleaming

Her strike will heal it all

 

And with a word she clears the way

Stand back and watch the tearing winds descend

To let you know you cannot stay

She is the season on the changing winds

Opening Up

Opening Up

 

A slow, gradual opening.

As Venus Fly Trap

secretes sweet nectar,

beckons with irresistible smells,

pleasant, open surroundings.

Little Restaurant of Horrors cries,

“Feeds me! Feed me! See? More.

Don’t let me die!”

 

It feeds on the hungry.

Kitchen newbies, tired caretakers,

crying children.

Lures them inside,

imprisoned in closed spaces,

oblivious, ignoring their fate.

They leave satisfied,

but doomed.

Wordless Conversation

She sends him a text message

but it is not a text message

it is a unique text message

two images, arms wrap-around each other.

 

He replies her text message

but there is no text in his message

he pushes the button and an image appears

A laughing head, tears rolling down its eyes.

 

It is a world of wordless conversation

It is another way into another soul

A way to take control.

Strawberry Fields

don’t look it in the eyes or

you’ll be stuck there forever.

but it’s a beautiful existence inside the mind of

one of the best monuments, a testament to the

determination and grit of humankind.

you’re welcome to pick a strawberry or two when the moment suits you,

just don’t let it consume you

I.

I exist.

Here in the city

Where big shoulders

Tower

But sometimes I cower

At the sight of blue and red lights

The color of freedom

Hypocrisy

I exist

And sometimes my skin’s

A challenge

To an authority

Their eyes watching me

I exist

Yes I do,

I’ve got a better chance of dying

From a bullet than you

I exist

And that’s just it

I’m here

And my spirit won’t

Quit

I exist

Do your worst

I whisper it

Those ideas get us killed

Even keeping your head down

Isn’t a guarantee

I exist

And sometimes

I wonder why we’re

Brown

I exist

And that’s ok

I think as long as I

Stand out of the way

Happy endings

I had my dreams
Snatched and broken
I had my heart
Crushed and turned to dust
Yet I still hope
For a happy ever after.

Hello fellow poets!

My name PrettyPink22,

I am avid poet reader and writer. This is my first year trying out poetry marathon. I hope I do good. My favorite  poets Maya Angelou,  Carolyn  Roger’s, Edgar Allen Poe, T.S Elliot, E.E Cummings, and Shel Silverstein.