poems about power

Staggering Fortune

He bloviates about the success of
His business, conveniently overlooking
The role of happenstance –
Right place, right time –
A product of pure chance –
No more effort expended than anyone else –
Pompously claiming prosperity is
The result of being
Extra smart, supernaturally savvy,
Gifted in some special way,
Unlike those he hallucinates
Don’t get off their posteriors and
Do something with the money they
Inherit from their families,
The arrogance of a windbag
Unappreciative of staggering fortune.

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Outside the Gates

He puts a label on everything.
You’re this way, you’re that way.
He’s this, she’s that.
This is like this, this is like that.
A petty mind constricting its
Environment, stuffing it into
A box too small. Proscribe the
Outliers, dictate the parameters,
Keep the barbarians outside
The gates. Settle in for a
Comfortable spell in the lazy,
Soft throne of delusion.

Slash and Burn

Having been dispossessed
By a callous regime,
She devotes much of
Her energy to devising
A philosophy of
Absolute selfishness.

Some are resilient,
Striving to help people not
Suffer the same fate,
Others lash out in a
Maelstrom of misanthropy,
Slash and burn inhumanity.

A zero sum game —
Only one person wins,
No caring or collaboration,
Empty worth defined by
How much stuff you can
Amass at others’ expense.

Tradition

Something slightly off,
Vaguely strange.
Stiff, uncomfortable
In social situations,
Overly serious, ill at ease
Interacting with others.
Conversations oddly
Reminiscent of high school.
Inflexibility, stodginess,
Tradition trumps all,
Little tolerance or interest in
Change or progress.
Good old days that
Never existed reign supreme.
Maudlin memories of
Idealized order and conformity.

Lord of the Manor

Sitting around
A lavishly decorated,
Candlelit table after enjoying
A decadently sumptuous meal,
The exquisitely rare
Dessert wine is announced
To collective glee,
The lord of the manor is
Overheard intimating that they
Must have done something right,
The servants refill the
Glasses without a word.

Latent

The smallest opportunity
To lord over someone
Sends him into paroxysms
Of bliss, his true nature
Rears its grotesque head
With surprising facility.

Churning, just below the
Surface, a latent reservoir
Of domineering autocracy,
Impatient to impose its
Unrestrained dysfunction on
The next sorry victim.

Better

Sharing a quiet moment
With his family in a
Warm living room,
He reminisces wistfully
About the idyllic days of
His youth when everything
Was better and the
Complexities of the
World were non-existent.
His friends and he would
Play stick ball for hours
Until their moms called them
In for supper, carefree days
Spent enjoying the fresh air,
Roaming freely,
Incognizant of what was
Really happening just
A couple miles away.

Pendulum

Perplexing divergence,
One person sees
Opportunities to help,
Another relishes
Occasions to punish.

Disparate perspectives –
Vastly different outcomes,
Community or aristocracy,
Consequences radiating from
Personal preference.

Constant tension between
Dissimilar perspectives,
The pendulum swings
Too far in one direction,
People suffer needlessly.

Crisis

They take advantage
Of any crisis,
Or simply manufacture
One, to keep the
Populace in a
Constant state of
Heightened anxiety.

Self-appointed saviors
Vowing to keep
Everyone safe
While they pick
Pockets, discourage
Critical thinking,
Hobble society.