Disgracing Lady Justice

by Samantha Terrell

  There are times

  For acting on impulse

  But ultimately,

  Hearts are made to feel

  And we think

  With our heads;

  So let’s stop hanging

  Upside-down,

  And be right-side-up

  Instead

  (Upside-down World was first published in the Poetry Explosion Newsletter)

  ∞

  Patriotism

  Thomas Paine said what was right

  When others wanted to overlook--

  He persevered, published his book.

  If only we will look and see,

  The figures in our history

  Generously offer insight,

  Rouse us from silence to noises,

  And give us eyes, to use our voices.

  ∞

  ‘Manifest Destiny'

  A truthful journey covers great distances,

  Over oft-rocky terrain

  And, it’s hard to recognize progress

  While looking down,

  To keep from stumbling

  Over rocks and roots

  The path of contrivity is tempting;

  Offering short-hikes up to those guaranteed,

  Breath-taking vistas

  But too many peaks clustered closely together,

  Can form a mountain range

  Of indifference, and

  While captivated,

  At least momentarily,

  By the panoramic view,

  A wall forms between

  The present,

  And destiny

  ∞

  Until There's Really Nothing Can Be Done

  A wind of protest

  Whooshes past;

  The breeze

  Itself a welcome relief,

  From the oppressive stench

  Of lazy discontent.

  But all too quickly, hands

  Are bound behind backs,

  As the well-oiled

  Political machine in its smug glory

  Moves on, a carefully built

  Conveyer belt

  Of deceit,

  Attempting to silence those who dare speak.

  Ominously it glides along, evenly paced

  Towards the impending cliff edge of space.

  Darned if it does seem we're gaining momentum! But in which direction?

  As we scramble swiftly backward, we're told there’s little can be done

  ∞

  Garden Party Pleasantries

  Canvas canopies here,

  Attempt to screen the sun

  From a group

  Gathered to hear.

  Already-soaked-in-heat,

  Rising from the

  Clay brick patio, helps to

  Draw forth sweat beads

  That glisten,

  Glaring and honest,

  In this sweltering

  Political season.

  Introductions are made;

  Drinks, served;

  Speeches, given;

  Pleasantries, exchanged.

  But the chilly breeze that blows

  Through your

  Flowery words

  Is unwelcome,

  Despite the warmth, revealing a crass temperature

  To your

  Not so subtle,

  Disingenuous character.

  Yet, you seem conflicted,

  And I wonder if I’m the only one intrigued.

  You absentmindedly deadhead a few dried blossoms,

  Reminding me: We are all tending the same garden

  ∞

  Intersections

  Traffic converges

  At intersections, as

  Cars and trucks

  Move in succession,

  Hastily, or slowly

  Toward stop signs

  Making mass movement invisible

  From this vantage point

  And a standstill

  Seems inevitable;

  But advancement of vehicles

  Marks progress

  ∞

  Mere Pawns?

  Mere pawns sit quietly

  Upon respective checkered pasts,

  Grateful the chess board

  Is not made of glass

  Satisfied participants

  Knowing, alternatively,

  Spare pieces are left

  At outskirts, entirely

  Hoping the next move

  Might be theirs to make,

  But acknowledging others

  Whose roles have more at stake

  So, having frequently observed the

  Entrapment of kings who took the bait

  And, desperately wanting

  To avoid abandon’s fate,

  Mere pawns working under royalty

  Patiently await,

  The chance to overturn the board,

  When they will say, “Checkmate”

  ∞

  Never Too Soon To Quit

  Give me an analogy for war,

  And I will show you the skills for peace.

  Make me know what it’s for,

  And I will help you to see

  A simpler way

  To understand

  Why I blame

  The nature of man

  And why, the sooner

  We learn it’s okay to be wrong,

  We can spin this world the other way

  Making grateful praise

  From hateful riots,

  And turning brash noise into serene quiet

  ∞

  Beating Dead Horses

  Oh my god

  It’s tiresome, the way we have the whip,

  And the carrots too, and we keep coaxing,

  And prodding,

  Even coddling;

  And we led it to the water,

  Like they said, but

  There was no drinking,

  Or at least, not that we could tell.

  And of course,

  Just wishing

  For civility, will

  Never allow us to ride. But our State, of affairs

  Doesn’t improve by

  Beating dead horses,

  And only draws more nasty stares.

  So how long will

  We continue

  Trying to lead

  Where no one will follow,

  And everyone keeps

  Saying sorry but,

  “They’ve gotta

  Go see

  A man about…,”

  You know the rest. Making

  Changes mid-stream is never easy,

  But if a turn of foot

  Doesn’t help the pace,

  It may be time

  To scratch our picks

  From their next race

  ∞

  Taxes

  Our roads are paved with dollars;

  The bricks and mortar too,

  Where our youngsters

  Go to school;

  All our infrastructure,

  As a general-rule

  But our homes

  Are insured with

  Fear, and our pockets

  Themselves, lined with lint,

  Rubbed threadbare

  By nervous hands shoved in

  To save warmth because

  The electric bill didn’t get paid so there’s no heat,

  And there are few perks at work

  Since our businesses, by extension, have little profits to reap

  From a people spreading the slight

  Amongst the many, to feed

  The voraciousness of the shrewd.

  So our work may not pay, but our vote still counts,

  For today.

  Where will the ballots land?

  Haphazardly on polling place floors?

  Or, into capable hands?

  To handle

  Responsibly

  An increasingly polarized

  Society’s needs,

  Ass
embling together, amicably

  Against the proponents of greed

  ∞

  On Pacifism

  The exigency

  Of humanity

  Is the opportunity

  To elect peace

  Over war,

  Recognizing the choice

  Is espoused to valor,

  Not fear.

  For there is action

  In inaction,

  Particularly in death.

  And what we meet

  In the pacifist's demise,

  We find

  Was humanity's only trait

  Worthy of defending

  ∞

  Diplomacy

  Self-defense and

  Self-promoting

  Both convey a set of motives

  In personal matters,

  Or those of a nation,

  To win or lose,

  To stand or fall,

  Depends on the artist

  Within us all

  ∞

  Entitlement

  Who deserves

  To drink, eat, be?

  Who has truly

  Earned their keep?

  The deer of the field,

  The fish of the sea?

  Life is work, and work, life.

  Oh, to live honorably,

  Knowing, in earnest,

  Earning

  Is not meant

  For keeping;

  Nor does

  Having, and having kept

  Equate to

  Having earned,

  As a leaf is not

  Entitled to its tree.

  But we were all

  Born to die free

  ∞

  Call Me Home

  Call me home,

  Beyond the graveyard

  Of self-defeat,

  Beyond the unkempt,

  Cracked, and

  Callous-producing street,

  To that place before weary

  Where I never wept,

  Nor feared

  For all the empty soda-can

  Brokenness and disgrace of

  This world’s countless years.

  Call my eyes upward

  To remember again,

  There is an aqua sky

  Way up above the hurt and

  Useless junk, where American

  Eagles…and other birds, still fly

  ∞

  Premise of Peace

  We will be okay

  Because we’ve always been

  Okay,

  Because that’s the best

  We can ever be

  Before the warring starts,

  And the powers-that-be

  Conspire to manipulate the free,

  And the whole world pushes

  Hard against itself

  Until something slips in the struggle.

  Then there’s an aftermath of rubble

  But some of the tension dissipates

  In the release,

  Reminding humanity of our need

  For a common premise of peace

  ∞