"Two Men Contemplating the Moon" by Caspar David Friedrich‘A Fragmentary Introduction to the Geo-Political America of the Progressive Left’ and Other Poetry by James A. Tweedie The Society November 1, 2020 Culture, Deconstructing Communism, Poetry 23 Comments A Fragmentary Introduction to the Geo-Political America of the Progressive Left Exuding virtue-signaling savoir-faire, “The Vanguard of the Proletariat,” Like Lenin, Xi, Marat, or Robespierre, Assumes the role of Commissariat. With self-appointed righteousness and power The autocrats declare what’s best for all, And crush dissent and regulate each hour While holding all society in thrall, Today, with mainstream media support, New PC rules replace the rule of law. Such “truths” as these, to which we must comport, Imposed by dictat, threat, and sheer chutzpah: “There is no place where racist attitudes Are not entrenched, pervasive and systemic.” “There is no place where Trump’s ineptitudes Are not responsible for the pandemic.” “There is no place where crime and poverty Are not the fault of one-percenters.” “There is no place where damaged property Is caused by black-clad Antifa dissenters “ “There is no place where funding for police Can’t be reduced for neighborhood improvement.” “There is no place where rioting will cease Until we bless the Black Lives Matter movement.” “The world will end unless we sign and seal, Embrace and implement the Green New Deal.” The list is endless—on and on and on it goes. And where or when it all will end, God only knows. One Nation, Under God When God’s existence is denied The government is deified. For rulers where God isn’t King Will have no fear of anything. And if there is no God at all The government holds all in thrall. Whatever politicians say Will be what’s right and true today. For without God, it’s all a game Where good and evil are the same. Yet even when God’s recognized, Some nations claim, “He’s on our side.” And therefore, if God’s on their side, Then all they do is justified. But, either way, such effrontery Is treason to God’s sovereignty. For those who rule apart from God Are like all other humans, flawed. For even petty hellions Behave like Machiavellians, And if their power is absolute, Unchecked corruption follows suit. And though, at times, they may rule well, They’ll always be one step from hell. Until, of course, the day they dare To take that step and lead us there. Two Paths A man betrothed, And subsequently wed, In service to our much-divided nation. A man both loathed (Indeed, some wish him dead) Yet loved by those who see in him salvation. Four years have passed; It’s time to choose our course— A path that leads to a renewal of vows As at the last; Or bitter-fought divorce And a new lover as the law allows. Two paths that lead To different destinations; The one, to some, being hell, the other, heaven; To dust our creed— Our national foundations— With anarchist or law and order leaven. As Covid steals Our health and liberty, We’ll cast our vote and wile away the hours Till time reveals Our nation’s destiny— A future in the hands of God—and ours. “Let Mortal Tongues Awake” Reflections on the Hymn, “My Country, ‘tis of Thee” (may be sung to the tune, “America”) The lyric to a much-loved song, “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee”— That sings of “pilgrim’s pride” and our “sweet land of liberty,” Along with patriotic love for “woods and templed hills,”— Lies buried neath the rubbled hate that anarchy instills. “Let freedom ring!” the lyrics cry. “Let all that breathe partake” Of everything endowed by God that’s ours, by right, to take. For freedom is bestowed by neither government nor king, “Our father’s God,” who authored liberty, “to thee we sing.” The promise of equality is good, of course, except The promise that was made was not a promise always kept. For some, and to our shame, a shadow fell on freedom’s light, And sacrificial blood had to be shed to make things right. The days of legal slavery have long been left behind. But prejudicial bias lingers on in some folks’ minds. There’s work to do before we cross into that promised land Where racist prejudice is set aside and hate is banned. But taking out our anger on each other will not serve To bring about the kind of world that all of us deserve. To think that something good will come from burning property While hurling rocks and worse at cops makes no good sense to me. But anarchy seeks not to fix the system that we own, But fervently believes that it should all be overthrown. And be replaced by what? The anarchists don’t really say, Except to promise everything will turn out right someday. The water in our nation’s “bath” is dirty, through and through, And so, they say, dump out the baby with the water, too. As if a perfect Paradise, like Aristotle’s flies, From piles of fetid dung will just spontaneously rise. As long as city governments allow this lawlessness The rest of us will pay the price for cleaning up the mess. To meet the violence with strength is what police should do. While cities must enforce the law with prosecutions, too. “Let mortal tongues awake” in praise of liberty and law, And find a way to bring to pass what our forefathers saw. God bless our city on a hill, “long may our land be bright,” And crown our good with brotherhood; and “freedom’s holy light.” James A. Tweedie is a recently retired pastor living in Long Beach, Washington. He likes to walk on the beach with his wife. He has written and self-published four novels and a collection of short stories. He has several hundred unpublished poems tucked away in drawers. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. 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) 23 Responses Joe Tessitore November 1, 2020 “They’ll always be one step from hell.” So very well done, James, and so very much on the money. Reply Mike Bryant November 1, 2020 One word… tremendous. Reply Russel Winick November 1, 2020 Great writing- I enjoyed them all. Thanks for providing! Reply Sarban Bhattacharya November 1, 2020 The anarchists believe in destruction instead of creation. They do not have an answer to anything, but they questions the government with rash impulsiveness. The radical left, as you honestly put, doesn’t want to set things aright, but overthrow the status quo. The choice is now between God and the Devil. I can remember the lines from the New Testament- Strait is the Gate that leadeth unto life, but few there be that find it. President Trump is not fighting against Biden, he is fighting against all those evil influences that were mentioned by James A. Tweedie in his poems, to wit, the violence of Antifa, BLM, CCP etc. along with the pretentious political correctness that drags racial prejudice and climate change everywhere in order to fulfill their own interests. We have two days left before the final verdict. Biden is not the sole problem here, but the entire enraged and indoctrinated radical milieu collectively posits the image of Anti-Christ that is boldly knocking the door of America and the free world. I thank James A. Tweedie for writing down these wonderful poems at a crucial juncture in the history of America. Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant November 1, 2020 James, what a powerful wake-up call delivered in four magnificent poems for all those who have become disillusioned and confused by the propaganda that passes for “news” these days. Sarban Bhattacharya’s astute and heartfelt comment says is all. There are some wonderful rhymes – my favorites; “effrontery/sovereignty” and “hellions/Machiavellians”. Just one thing; should “shear chutzpah” be “sheer chutzpah”, or is this a shepherd’s whistle to all the poor sheep out there wandering in the wrong political direction? 😉 Reply James A. Tweedie November 1, 2020 It should be “sheer.” Also, the word, “With” is missing from the beginning of the last line of the third stanza in Two Paths. I appreciate the affirming comments. I am also, of course, fully aware that I am preaching to the choir. Reply Joe Tessitore November 1, 2020 May a historic number of choristers raise their voices on November 3rd and may our President be RE-elected in an avalanche. C.B. Anderson November 1, 2020 Of course you are preaching to the choir, James, but sometimes even the choir needs to hear some choice true words from the pulpit. Jeff Kemper November 1, 2020 From a choir-member who is in a hospital in PA with Covid, and will not be able to vote, your great poems have eased my tension a bit. Thanks. Susan Jarvis Bryant November 2, 2020 Jeff, I am so sorry to hear this. I wish you a full and speedy recovery. James, never stop preaching to the choir – it inspires this chorister sing a little stronger and a little longer. James Sale November 1, 2020 Very good, James, very good indeed – well done. Reply David Paul Behrens November 1, 2020 So now as I’m leavin’ I’m weary as Hell The confusion I’m feelin’ Ain’t no tongue can tell The words fill my head And fall to the floor If God is on our side He’ll stop the next war Bob Dylan 1963 Reply James A. Tweedie November 1, 2020 Jeff (see above), Get well. I am surprised there is no provision for you to vote. Let us know when you are released to go home. Reply Margaret Coats November 2, 2020 Also for Jeff Kemper — best wishes for a rapid recovery! Fruits are great for healing; have someone get you a good supply at home. Jeff Kemper November 3, 2020 I persistently kept asking hospital personnel until I got a positive response and, as a result, I did get to vote after all! Indications show that I’m improving, but elimination of the pneumonic sewage from my lungs will take time. Thank you all for your concern. Mike Bryant November 3, 2020 Hurrah!!! Margaret Coats November 2, 2020 James, what an array of good work with effectively expressed insights! Most impressive is that each of four poems has a strong, thoughtful ending. Perhaps the best is “A future in the hands of God–and ours.” Reply James A. Tweedie November 2, 2020 Thank you, Margaret, and thanks to all for your kind and supportive comments. Reply Cynthia Erlandson November 2, 2020 Such true thoughts, so well expressed! I really enjoyed the form in which you wrote “Two Paths”, dividing the first pentameter into two lines. Reply James A. Tweedie November 3, 2020 Thank you, Cynthia. I am glad you noticed that twist and acknowledged it. I was pleased with the result and have wondered if there is a name for it? Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant November 3, 2020 The term for this, James, is poetic ingenuity. 🙂 Cynthia Erlandson November 3, 2020 I don’t know that it has an official name, but I call it clever. C.B. Anderson November 4, 2020 I’m pretty sure, James, that there is no name for it other than its sheer description — pure nonce. 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. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.