good poems

Big and Strong

Cowards assembling in groups
Intended to intimidate the
Already voiceless and powerless,
Promoting cruel beliefs
Steeped in fictitious phobias
Arising from profound insecurity,
A grim posse hunting down
It’s next victim,
Anyone who doesn’t conform
To their warped sense of entitlement.
They smile at each other,
Feeling big and strong for this brief moment.

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Not You

A thoughtful walk on a
Pensive day with nowhere
In particular to go and
Many places to explore.
Reach down and trace
The innocent perfection
Of a tiny flower,
Overlooked by many,
But not you.

Submit

Slaughtering peaceful protesters
To protect a contaminated system
Put in place to protect only
Those who adhere to the party line,
The evening news proclaims
The rioters have been dealt with
And order once again rules.
Harsh oppressors without conscience,
The same story told in
Countless languages,
Appalling violence perpetuated
On the subjugated to appease
The obscene needs of psychopaths.

Centuries

No one in this family
Ever asks anyone else
A question,
All they know how to do
Is talk at each other,
Professing to understand everything
Without possessing any information
Beyond their own
Narrow notions.
Should anyone speak up,
Share his or her own point of view,
Disrupt the centuries of
Toxic patterns,
They’ll be immediately
Ostracized.

Pretending to Live

Imagine what it’s like to have
One event completely transform
You, irrevocably, implacably,
Without any chance of
Change or adaptation,
A grim, remorseless trudge
Toward sordid climes where
People force wounded smiles.
Pretending to live.

Crushing

A stranger smiles at her;
She tenses up with anger,
Reliving those crushing
Moments when a smile
Served as a taunt,
A belittling punch to
Keep her in her place,
Anesthetize her joy,
Until she’s ready.

The New Apartment

She’s gone now,
And all he has to
Look at is himself.

Wandering around
The new apartment,
Bumping into things.

No amount of anything
Makes it go away,
That voice.

He mutters something
To himself about
Being right.

This Kingdom

He says goodbye
For the last time,
Swallowing the anguish,
As he was taught to do.

Too many farewells,
A scarcity of hellos,
Don the sadness-quelling
Stifling suit of armor.

A feeling too many
For this kingdom,
Such things are
Not welcome.

Not Acceptable

When I let go
Of the need for
Someone else to be
Something else,
I find that I’m able
To breathe again,
Go about my business
Without the all-consuming
Fever that keeps me
Tied to anger,
Unable to move in any
Direction but down,
Wondering why I’m
Not acceptable.