Poems on Riots and the State of the World: July, 2020 The Society July 18, 2020 Culture, Deconstructing Communism, Poetry 8 Comments I Make My Way by Joe Tessitore These times, indeed, have tried my soul. With lightening speed, I’ve lost control Of all that mattered in the past— It drifts, now scattered, in a vast, Uncharted realm. Uncertainty Is at the helm and where I’ll be, No one can say. No prophecy To chart my way. No star to see On which to fix, to navigate The River Styx. Revelation by Mike Bryant The spring was of sand, The summer is mud. The planned fall of man, The winter of blood Will blow us away. As destiny’s here So hate will hold sway. This year is of fear. Then spring follows on As always, it does. God’s love will dawn As in Eden it was. Not All, But Some by James A. Tweedie While still a child I learned this social rule: For me, there’d be no consequence at all If I should fight or misbehave at school. My parents’ reputation took the fall. Then, as a youth, when I would vandalize, My parents had to pony up the cost. And who would the case workers criticize? Not me—my parents were the ones who lost. In college demonstrations which defied All logic, law, and common sense, “Oppressors” would be vilified. For us, “free speech” was always our defense. Today, I riot, throw a brick and burn And loot a store and know from precedent That media and Democrats will turn Their eyes from me and blame the President. So, hop aboard the train of anarchy And if, by chance, you’re ever put in jail, Flat out deny responsibility And someone else will gladly post your bail. I curse this so-called land of liberty, Which lets me riot with impunity; Where those who break the law get off scot-free; And everybody’s to be blamed but me. NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets. 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CODEC News:Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 8 Responses Leo Zoutewelle July 19, 2020 Joe, the last four lines are ones on which I’ll likely meditate all day; really gripping! Thanks, Leo Reply Joe Tessitore July 19, 2020 Thanks, Leo. I didn’t know they were coming. I thought it was going to be another current events kind of thing and was pleasantly surprised when it turned out otherwise. I was even going to continue writing, and am happy that I caught myself. Reply James A. Tweedie July 19, 2020 Joe, That’s the fun of writing, isn’t it? When the creative process leads you to a place you hadn’t even dreamed of until it shows up on othe page. Dave Whippman July 19, 2020 The final stanza in “Revelation” is even more uplifting because of the gloomy lines that precede it. I’ll think of “Not All, but Some” whenever I watch videos of Antifa or BLM. 3 good poems. Reply Rod Walford July 19, 2020 Three very good poems. Joe and James have showcased the human anger and frustration whilst Mike has framed the hopeless spiritual aspect – with redemption so beautifully restored in his final lines. Good grief gentlemen! Reply C.B. Anderson July 19, 2020 The first two poems were compact and to the point. Joe, as with the Styx, so with the Jordan. We all have to cross one or the other, but not too soon, I hope. And Mike, I love the does/was rhyme; I’ve used it at least once myself. Those who say that English is rhyme-poor compared to some other languages miss the point: if rhymes are too easy to come by, then they are less effective. How peculiar that a present-tense verb should rhyme with a past-tense verb. The third poem of course illustrates that a poem’s narrator is generally not the author of the poem — unless, James I have completely misjudged your character. The narrator is a pathetic creep, so I’m not quite sure, in the last stanza, why he curses the land that allows him to indulge his egoistic whims. Reply James A. Tweedie July 20, 2020 Irony, C.B. Irony. It’s what anarchists do (bring a curse upon a country) and it’s what we do (let them do it). Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant July 25, 2020 All three admirably wrought poems tap into the mood of the moment with passion, insight, beauty, creativity and bravery. Thank you, gentlemen. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. Δ This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.