Walt Trizna's Blog, page 57
September 12, 2020
it’s all about timing…
the pastor
swayed
to
the music
from
the youth choir
smiling broadly
as
he opened
the bible
and
read
a verse
about
the true meaning
of
forgiveness
to which
deacon jones
exclaimed
amen
while
staring
at
a frowning
sister jones
in
the front row
September 9, 2020
capital investment …
Where is our America?
returning
from
the market
during
my weekly
outing from quarantine
i
saw the brown bag prophet
with
a sign
that read
they kept their promise
mask on
i rolled down my window
and
inquired
what the sign was about
well
the prophet
said
with a voice
muffled somewhat
by
his cloth mask
those businessmen
who’ve taken over
the government
have done
what they promised
turned the government
into
a business
and
like most businesses
the
folks at the top
in
the administration
get
all
the profits
while
folks
at
the
bottom
and
in the middle
do
all the work
and are rewarded
with
just enough
to
almost survive
while
watching
their
government aided programs
be cut
in order
to
increase profits
profits
that
have
bankrupted
the
nation
but
those
conflict of interest business folks
kept their
promise
September 4, 2020
formication…
These are the questions every writer asks himself. Without doubt there is no improvement.
i
listen
for
sounds
just beyond
these
invisible doors
wondering
if
anyone
hears my words
i ask myself
are these poems
just
ushered
into
darkholes
where
each
simile
and
metaphor
are pulled
into
fields
of
apathy
from
which
they will never
escape
nor
send
back
signals
of
their survival
it would appear
the
whole
process
is like that
of
faith
belief
beyond
reason
writing
to
cleanse
that
feeling
of
insects
crawling
beneath
society’s
skin
August 31, 2020
singing a tired refrain again…
The brown bag prophet for president!
the city’s
opened up some
so
streets
have begun
to
be re-inhabited
by
dreamers
and
shadow people
when
i saw
the brown bag prophet
he seemed
none the worst
for
the wear
when
i asked
about
his being
he replied
nothing
has changed
myths of freedom
still
circulate
among
the masses
who’ve
ignored
the history
of
america
they continue
to
sing refrains
sung
since enslavement
one more river to cross
or
to let my people go
as if
one more compromise
or
prayer
will
make
a difference
son
the one thing
i’ve learned
in
this life
is
enslavement
never ended
nor
was
it intended
to
end
subjugation
of
people of color
has been
and
continues
to be
codified
in the actions
and
laws
of
the nation
but
we keep singing
freedom songs
as if
the words
are
some magical incantation
but
child
my father’s
father
sang
those songs
so
i…
View original post 12 more words
August 20, 2020
behavioral modification…
the names
of
their true
gods
adorn
their bumper stickers
embossed
with
their
mindless mantras
those
carefully contrived
scriptures
from
an ad agency
after being
thoroughly
researched
by
behavioral scientists
and
predicted
to be
on par
with
the gospel
convincing
even
saints
to vote
for
the devil
sleepless lambs…
This country is not was it was. We, you and me need to get on the track it was on.
caged lambs
wool soaked
with urine
from
the holding pens
shivering
frightened
grasping
for
one breath
of
the promised
freedom
from
oppression
not
this
slaughter house
of
innocent souls
but
now
it’s
lights out
at
the border
detention center
August 18, 2020
a flag’s silhouettes of death…
I love this poet’s incite and work.
you
demanded
that
i
stand for the flag
while
insisting
i should fall
at
your feet
whenever you
offer
some morsel
of
freedom
but
it was my family
that paid
in
blood
for the wealth
of
this nation
we have been
enslaved
beaten
degraded
and
murdered
for
centuries
without
cessation
of
violence
against us
for all
of
those years
and
yet
you pretend
to be
offended
when
anyone
questions
why
gratitude
should be shown
for
a history
of
barbarism
August 17, 2020
you are dying…
just outside
the glow
of
life’s street lamp
death
lingers
like
a gaseous shadow
merging
with
night’s fog
floating
like
waves
into view
then
receding
into
the darkness
as if
reminding
us
of
its presence
for all too often
we deny
that
death
is near
and
that
we
are close
to
extinction
August 16, 2020
when saints dance with devils …
the chamber’s littered
with charred bones and melted gold
wealth of the nation
abstracted from its people
solely for a few’s pleasure
but fools won’t complain
they believe their battles won
but the gold’s been cast
into their final death masks
poured over their moral souls
stealing their last breath
branding their souls with their greed
leaving sunken eyes
empty of tomorrow’s hope
like rats on a sinking ship
August 15, 2020
as death approaches…
Let us hope this is not the future.
having difficulty recalling
the names
of
friends
unable to
discern critical issues
that
must be addressed
for
personal welfare
leaves mail
unattended
hoping
payment
can be avoided
blurred vision
unable
to
see clearly
what’s all around
increased confusion
and
reduced concentration
so
unable to do everyday tasks
continually talks
about
the past
but
cannot recall
the real events
fantasizes
leaving out
what was
wrong
keeps saying
wants things to be
like
that fantasized world
but
the world cannot
return to
what
never was
so
making
a dying
nation
great again
is not
possible
