A Hard Choice

 A HARD CHOICE

The Emperor lectured his knights.

            They were all battle scarred

                        And had fought very hard

Against foes in all foreign lands.

But the Emperor said

            The real foes were here,

Right here in our own homeland.

"The serfs don't like me," the Emperor said,

            "They want to chop off my head.

So I want you all now to all leave this hall

            And go out and chop off their heads."

The knights listened as the Emperor raved on,

            They listened to his monotone voice

                        As he spewed hatred and bile,

                                    And all the while,

They knew they must make a hard choice.

A True Knight

 A TRUE KNIGHT

Another knight was thrown into the moat.

            The Emperor wanted to see him float.

But, with fear on his face,

            He sank without a trace.

Everyone, including the knight,

            Knew he would vanish from sight,

Because he was in full armor.

            "He must've been a farmer,"

The Emperor calmly noted.

            "A true knight would have floated."

Then the Emperor turned away.

            That was his fun for the day.

The Dogs of Doom

 THE DOGS OF DOOM

The dogs of doom have been unleashed,

            And the land is burning.

We thought we were stronger than this,

            Better than this,

So we took no precautions,

            No protections,

                        No safeguards.

But we were no stronger than anyone else,

            No better than anyone else.

Now our country is fire country,

            And there is no escape.

Our homes are burning,

            Our lives are burning,

                        Our country is burning.

Flames surround us,

            All is turning to ashes,

                        And there is no shelter.

The land is burning,

            And the dogs of doom

                        Have been unleashed.

Bare Castle

 BARE CASTLE

We burned all the rugs today.

            They just got in the way.

Someone tried to trip the Emperor with one.

            Perhaps they just thought it was fun.

Or perhaps it was something more dire.

            So we build a bonfire

                        And we burned them all,

Lest the Emperor trip and fall.

            Then, for good measure,

                        And the Emperor's pleasure,

We burned every curtain.

            We had to make certain

None of them could strangle,

            Or even entangle,

The Emperor as he walked in the hall

            And cause him to fall.

Now the Emperor has no care

            As he walks in the hall,

Though the castle is dreadfully bare.

The Rug in The Hall

 THE RUG IN THE HALL

The Emperor slipped on a rug.

            Someone must've given it a tug.

We ran to sound the alarm:

            Someone wished the Emperor harm!

Someone was out to get him,

            So we had to find them.

It could have been a secret cabal.

            We had to find them all.

The Emperor almost fell,

            So everyone had to tell:

Where were you?

            What did you do?

Who put down the rug?

            Who gave it a tug?

Was the carpet laid

            By the scullery maid?

Even the most loyal knights

            Were in our sights.

The nobles were put to the test

            Along with all the rest.

We never found the secret culprit,

            But many bodies

                        Were hanged in the lobbies.

And there was a big purge

            Of any who might have felt the urge

To make the Emperor fall

            On the rug in the hall.

The Emperor Wants a Prize

 THE EMPEROR WANTS A PRIZE

The Emperor wants the Nobel Peace Prize.

            He wants to try it on for size.

He thinks he deserves it for the war

            He ended between Abadan and Bezoar.

No one knew they were at war.

            And there were so many more.

There must be six or seven,

            Or maybe ten or eleven.

There was the war between Candyland

            And the fairies of Fairyland.

No one knew they even existed.

            But the Emperor insisted

There were so many wars

            No one  could recall them all.

So, he is the bigliest peacemaker of all time.

            He has ended wars in every clime.

He has ended wars no one knew about.

            And so, without a doubt,

The Emperor deserves the Nobel Peace Prize.

            He wants to try it on for size.

And it had better fit his bigly head,

            Or someone will end up dead.

Prisoners in The Palace

 PRISONERS IN THE PALACE

We are prisoners in the palace

            Of the Emperor's malice.

We live according to his whim.

            Today we are "us,"

                        Tomorrow, "them."

He bears a grudge

            Against any

                        Who would judge him.

He throws a tantrum

            And we must run,

Lest, through his caprice, 

            We lose our palace lease.

He throws the dice,

            And we pay the price.

Today it may be hell,

            But tomorrow, paradise.

There is no way to know

            Which way he will go.

We are prisoners in the palace

            Of the Emperor's malice.

He Loves To Be Loved

 HE LOVES TO BE LOVED

"I hate those who hate me,"

            The Emperor declared hatefully.

"If they don't love me, I don't love them,

            And I will burn them, root and stem."

And he meant what he said.

            He wanted everyone dead

Who had ever laughed at him,

            Mocked him,

                        Defied him,

Denied his right to rule over them.

Once there had been laughter in the palace.

            But he viewed jesters with malice,

                        So jesters were banished,

                                    And some just vanished.

Some said we should "speak truth to power."

            They were sent to the Tower.

Some said we should fight.

            They disappeared from sight.

Now no one hates the Emperor.

We all love the Emperor,

            Because he loves to be loved,

                        And he loves us all

                                    Who are in his thrall.

Columbine

 COLUMBINE

Columbine was in '99.

That seems long ago, like a lifetime.

Long enough to go through childhood.

Long enough to go through grade school.

Long enough to go through high school.

Long enough to go through college.

Long enough to start a career,

            Get married,

                        Have some kids.

Columbine was a distant time,

            A quarter century and more.

Long enough to live a life.

Unless you were one of those kids

At Columbine in '99.

Dirty Deeds

 DIRTY DEEDS

Today the Emperor ordered an execution.

If you cannot make a contribution

            To his campaign of retribution,

                        You will pay the toll,

            Your head will surely roll.

Today it was a legal eagle

            Who could not find an angle

To charge a target with a crime,

            Make her do some time,

                        Or at least pay a fine.

So, in a thrice,

            The legal eagle paid the price.

And so we spin some gory story

            Of dastard dirty deeds

                        Done by those who,

                                    Back in the day,

            Tried to make the Emperor pay.

And for this gory story,

            We will not even bask in glory.

But we will not pay the toll,

            Our heads will not roll,

                        At least for one more day.                                    

Another Boat

ANOTHER BOAT

The Emperor bombed another boat today.

            It simply got in the way.

He said it was filled with very bad boys

            And their very bad toys.

                                    ********** 

We don't know if that was the case,

            Nor the exact time, nor the place.

But, as was his practice in the past,

            He showed us a picture of the blast.

                        **********

And he told us we had to be very careful,

            We had to be very fearful.

If we refused to clap and cry, "Hurray!"

            We could end the very same way.

CEOs

 CEOs

Greedy for money,

            CEOs are complicit

With the Emperor.

            **********

Whatever he wants,

            They are eager to comply.

Silence his critics?

            **********

They will silence them.

            Give him protection money?

They give him the cash.

            **********

But, will they even

            Destroy our democracy?

Yes, they will do that.

            **********

They don't care for it.

            They care only for money.

They are CEOs.

The Clearly Insane

 THE CLEARLY INSANE

The Emperor has few critics.

            Once there were many,

But one by one they have fallen silent.

            Soon there won't be any.

                        **********

The Emperor wanted to have them all shot.

            That's what others did to their foes.

His minions agreed they deserved to be shot,

            But, for now, just cancel their shows.

                        **********

So talk shows were cancelled,

            Woke professors were fired,

Papers were sued, and protestors were jailed.

            No critics were ever to be hired.

                        **********

Everyone cheered to see them all gone,

            For the Emperor was beyond blame,

The Emperor was always right,

            And any critic was clearly insane.

Pomp and Pomposity

 POMP AND POMPOSITY

The Emperor of the United States

            And the king of the United Kingdom

Are wining and dining in the castle today.

                        **********

The royal affair at the royal Windsor

            Is full of pomp and pageantry,

An exercise in tiara diplomacy.

                        **********

The royals, like everyone else,

            Know the Emperor likes to be treated

Like ancient royalty of long lineage.

                        **********

And so, more than the red carpet is rolled out.

            There are rides in gilded carriages

And parades of guards on prancing horses.

                        **********

There are soldiers in bright red uniforms,

            Because the Emperor,

Never a soldier, likes to play soldier.

                        **********

Royal Air Force jets fly over his head

            Leaving red, white, and blue

Contrails spreading across the sky.

                        **********

The Emperor beams and claps with joy,

            Because he loves such pomposity,

And wishes he could be the English king.

The Flag of Treason

 THE FLAG OF TREASON

The flag of treason

            Flies everywhere across

The United States of America.

                        **********

We have been conquered and colonized

            By a foreign nation,

By an enemy we thought we defeated.

                        **********

The flag is the flag of the slavers,

            The flag is the flag of the traitors,

The flag is the Confederate crossbones.

                        **********

It flies outside Gettysburg

            Where our ancestors

Died fighting those who carried that flag.

                        **********

And it flew above the insurrectionists

            Who stormed our Capitol

As they tried to overthrow our democracy.

                        **********

It is the flag of the slavers,

            It is the flag of the traitors,

And it flies everywhere across America.

The New Land

 THE NEW LAND

We have passed through the looking-glass.

            We have entered the Twilight Zone.

We are now in a land where those who

            Have no compassion

                        For the hungry and homeless

                                    Are lauded.

It is a land where old-time slavery is praised.

            It taught the slaves useful skills,

                        Our leaders say.

It is a land where the people

            Pay homage to the powerful

                        And mock the weak.

It is a land of the white and the straight,

            A land where bigotry is rewarded,

                        Empathy disdained,

            And virtue is forgotten.

It is a land where the murder of children

            Is welcomed

                        Because it means

                                    We have our guns.

It is a land where Christians

            Worship Mammon

                        And proclaim the Antichrist

                                    The New Messiah.

It is a land of darkness and shadows,

            Callous cruelty,

                        And bloody barbarity.

It is a land the inhabitants call

                        America the Beautiful.

These Days

 THESE DAYS

The Emperor was raving again today.

            We all tried to stay away.

It doesn't matter what we say,

            He still will rave that way.

                        **********

Someone doubted the Emperor's word,

            Doubtless some college nerd.

Now there'll be a thinning of the herd,

            At least, so we heard.

                        **********

It doesn't matter who.

            It could be me or you.

No one has a clue.

            Perhaps someone wearing blue.

                        **********

That's the way it goes these days.

            We're all groping in the haze,

We're all living in a daze,

            And someone always pays.

                        **********

If you laugh or seem to mock,

            If the boat you seem to rock,

Suggest he is a laughing stock,

            Your head is on the chopping block.

What Happens?

 WHAT HAPPENS?

What happens to the always defeated?

Do they fade away?

            (Marches for immigrant rights, 2006.)

Or do they rejoin the fray?

            (Occupy Wall Street, 2011.)

Do they return to fight another day?

            (Black Lives Matter, 2020.)

Or do they find some other way?

            (Rallies for Gaza, 2023.)

What happens to the always defeated?

            I want to know.

Langston Hughes asked

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up

Like a raisin in the sun?

            Or does it explode?

And the always defeated?

            What happens to them?

                        Simply surrender?

                                    Give up?

            Or do they pick up the gun?

Grail Quest

 GRAIL QUEST

Artists are immigrants.

            Some are legal

                        And are flush with grants.

            Some are illegal,

                        With recognition scant.

                        **********

Artists all, though, share the same goal:

            Cross over the luminous boundary,

                        Reveal secrets of the soul,

            Find the undiscovered country.

                        **********

Artists then see visions of glory,

            Visions of heaven and hell.

Then they return with some trite story

            Far short of what they meant to tell.

                        **********

Artists who drink the brew that is true

            Again set out on that lonesome trail,

                        Seeking once more to view

            A vision of their Holy Grail.

Someone Else Must Die

 SOMEONE ELSE MUST DIE

Someone else must suffer,

            I heard the evangelist say,

They must be the sacrificial lambs,

            So that we can live this way.

            **********

Someone else must pay,

            I heard the rich man say,

So that we can have this sunny day,

            So that we can live this way.

            **********

Someone else must strive to survive,

            I heard the top boss say,

So that we can richly thrive,

            So that we can live this way.

            **********

Someone else must die,

            I heard the speaker say,

So that we can keep our guns,

            So that we can live this way.

Only We

 ONLY WE

Ask any witness.

The eagle is sick

With a chronic illness,

A disease that is epic.

            **********

It took decades to this point.

Now, no one can deny

Time is out of joint.

I speak truth, not a lie.

            **********

Power is illicit.

The Supremes are compliant.

Congress is complicit.

Our leaders unreliant.

            **********

Only we can break the spell.

Only we can take a stand.

Only we can ring that freedom bell

Only we can heal this land.

Dark Days

 DARK DAYS

All is amiss.

Dark days are upon us.

We have fallen into the abyss.

Lady Liberty is covered in rust.

            **********

The fires climb higher

As laws, norms, freedoms, institutions,

And ancient liberties are tossed into the pyre,

Along with outlawed constitutions.

            **********

Across the land

Clouds gather in every clime.

Storm winds blow across the sand

And the sun refuses to shine.

How Long?

 HOW LONG?

How long till the air is clear?

How long must we cower

Before those in power?

How long to forget our fear?

            **********

How long can we stay alive

In a land where ICE

Is another name for cowardice?

How long can we survive?

            **********

How long till we sweep the fools away?

How long till we make a stand?

How long till we reclaim our land?

How long until that day?

            **********

How long will it take

To make America free again?

How long to wash away the stain?

Tell me, is it already too late?

A Poem

 A POEM

"A poem should not mean

But be,"

Said Archibald MacLeish.

            **********

I happen to disagree.

So far as I can see

A poem should more

Than simply be.

            **********

A poem should be beautiful,

Or perhaps thoughtful.

A poem should help us fight,

Or offer some rare insight.

A poem could even give us pleasure

Beyond measure.

            **********

With joy a poem should leap,

With grief a poem should weep.

With anger a poem should cry,

With love a poem should fly.

            **********

But most of all,

If I would recall

A poem in later times

Or other climes,

A poem must more than simply be.

A poem must mean -- to me.

The Billionaire

 THE BILLIONAIRE

Do not trust the billionaire,

            Any time, anywhere.

                        He is not your friend.

He is loyal to his billionaire class.

            To him, you're just an ass

                        To be bridled and ridden.

You're just the ignorant sheeple

            To be fleeced

                        As he tells you to

            "Look at that squirrel!"

The billionaire is a snake oil sharpster

            Selling you potent lies

                        About your fellow worker

            Who happens to be black or brown,

                        Who happens to be female,

            Or who speaks a foreign lingo,

But who, like you,

            Is just trying to survive and thrive.

That's a problem the billionaire never has.

He is never hungry,

            He never shivers in the cold.

                        He does not worry

                                    About growing old.

His only problem

            Is making you believe

                        He is your friend.