Is nothing without the meaning we give,
the soul of place—words we sing, Amerigo
Vespucci coining something, a coast with waves
and life, indigenous and white.
America is nothing, words without meaning
until we pray and bring in Gods to bless, the
day to day rising like a tide, word to word we
try to match feelings inside.
You look at the world, our word for it, try to
get past Borgesian fictions to accept that words
are what we have to conjure and communicate.
We settle, call things “things”—dream.
America is nothing without the dream we bring,
we fill an empty vessel, the uncarved block
of the Tao Te Ching. A rose by any other name would
smell as sweet, Shakespeare meat,
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
wants it down in Frostian weeds. Dust thou
art except the soul, and the demons you fight
in others, immigrants, outsiders
are really inside of the fighter. Our current
“president” watches a lot of TV, some say this
candidate of hate accentuates the divide the
Good news: you don’t have to do anything.
Stand tall or low, firm or soft—do nothing.
Gandhi wanted to change their minds, not kill
them for universal weaknesses shared by all.
Trump talks taxes during a lethal storm, an evil
brought by the wind of bigotry, hating black
people and women—their turn to lead. Right and
left, all spending too much,
money we do not have, playing God with promises
impossible to keep, getting elected with
private campaign money the eye of the storm
putting money, not ideas… in government.
We kick the natives and their god out,
run our slaves then pay them not, kill JFK
and accept the official story, for to delve in
too deep gets you killed, CIA diabolical feats.
Mark Lane defended Oswald perfectly from
afar, indicted CIA skillfully for anyone with time
to read. They call our president “powerful,”
a laugh, God’s got a bigger stack of chips—
just think about that. Asymmetry of information
leans on Trump campaign dudes until we might
segue back to 1972, Nixon in flames, Congress
to blame, or is it Samuel for asking for a king?
Lying every other line is consistent with guilt,
the cover up worse than the crime, corrupt
politicians fattening all the time, and what could
we expect with such a wide path to Evil?
Jesus and the elders were right, but we keep
looking around for an easier fight, until a few accept
the narrow road to heaven, seeing we can’t do
much so wait, ask for a blessing, aspire to patience.
We sometimes embark on geographic solutions,
head off where the grass is greener, the whole
discovery period in Europe one of these but worth it
to advance and bring the world closer to itself.
One click away from the other side of the planet seems
a large feat while a photon of light travels seven times
around it, there must be larger powers, atheists,
there must be!!
The wide narrows when we call out pharmaceutical
ads in their evil, C2H5OH the flammable thing sold
as “drink” by devil’s agents, sport itself a great
gateway to alcoholism and divorce.
While writing this screed, the poem looked back
got hit in the front, wearing headphones, looking
down at a cell while walking—which is worse,
that or driving?
Gan the word for eyesight placed first by Okinawan
karate warriors… Beware!! Could a man rightly
think he could at least have a Cast Away moment
with his first crush, say good-bye?
God bless us to less whining, more striving—less
expecting on the grateful mission of knowing we
don’t know very much, “America” just a word of
many, a polytheistic remedy to time’s forgotten
mystery, Heaven is peace of mind and “other
such dreams,” life…
“it’s like anything else,” Wood Allen feeds, movies
are what they seem, the daytime soap opera
dream washing out our fatigue, giving us space
America, lol, let’s look at devils within, be
unafraid looking back, making amends, smoothing
out our belligerence. Education of the MLK and
Gandhi level takes a special focus,
God bless us to it, the fight for justice. Never bow
to evil, gird us up, God—let’s beat the devil, cast
him behind; finally cast away, we can be the knight
in our own epic, be heroes in the strife—
Use words because they’re there, their meaning
growing with every blessing. God bless these words,
even “America,” and all the other nations needing
you, not men as king.