#100Days100Poems #TBT Happy 4th!

In honor of today’s July 4th Celebrations, I thought we’d do a little throw back Tuesday to a poem that first appeared during #100Days100Poems. We must continue to #Resist

 

Where Are You, America?

there you are, you
        scientists & park rangers & women & men & immigrants & 
        green card holders & teachers & stay-at-home dads & 
        stay-at-home moms & christians & muslims & atheists & 
        agnostics & taxi drivers & people 
`                with open hearts and open minds and open eyes


there you are

 
wandering
        on the National Mall at the feet of Lincoln
            ferrying the Hudson, led by Lady LIberty’s light
                navigating under the Golden Gate
                    gliding into the Port of Galveston

 


marching
       in Lafayette Park & Battery Park
       in Copley Square & Herman Square

 
       on Market Street & Lavaca Street
       on Fifth Ave & Congress Ave

 

landing and waiting and protesting
        @ JFK & SFO & DFW
        @ LAX & PDX & PHX
        @ PHL & STL & SAN & SEA
        @ IAH & DEN & RDU & ORD

 


speaking out
        from Lexington to Little Rock to Philadelphia
        from Sacramento to Albany
        from Cape Cod to Corpus Christi
        from Memphis to Milwaukee to Kalamazoo


speaking truth to propaganda
        in the Badlands
        in Yosemite & Yellowstone
echoing through the Rocky mountains and the Great Smoky Mountains

 

fist pumping at city halls and veterans halls
        in Houston & Honolulu
        in Burlington & Buffalo & Baton Rouge


America you are everywhere
        and soon you will be back
                in the White House
                                to put right
                                        the alt-right wrong
                                        the poisonous pencer
                                        the burnt orange trump card
                                        the fascist catastrophe


the World will be rooting for you
the World will be waiting for you
                                the true America
                                        the just America
                                                the free America

 

© David Siller – 2017

 

#100Days100Poems Day 39 #PhotoHaiku

Another #PhotoHaiku in light of recent travel ban “developments.”

© David Siller – 2017

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*****

For the first 100 days of the Trumpet administration, this blog will feature a new poem of protest, by my own hand and by others. They will be polished gems, or rough cut drafts of rage, or in process pieces searching for peace. They may be haiku or tanka, limericks or lyrics, verses free or fettered. If you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. All rights remain with the author.

VISUAL ARTISTS ! Do you have something visually poetic that you’d like to submit? GO FOR IT!

Please address any formatting preferences in your email. I will post submissions time permitting, with at least one per day. Editing will be limited to obvious errors of spelling and the like.

Read, follow, share, re-tweet, submit, live, love, spread light! Don’t forget to use #100Days100Poems !

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#100Days100Poems Day 29 #PhotoHaiku

Yesterday was a day of action, #ADayWithoutImmigrants. Today our #PhotoHaiku captures but one snapshot of the movement.

 

 

© Alyse Ramirez– 2017

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*****

For the first 100 days of the Trumpet administration, this blog will feature a new poem of protest, by my own hand and by others. They will be polished gems, or rough cut drafts of rage, or in process pieces searching for peace. They may be haiku or tanka, limericks or lyrics, verses free or fettered. If you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. All rights remain with the author.

VISUAL ARTISTS ! Do you have something visually poetic that you’d like to submit? GO FOR IT!

Please address any formatting preferences in your email. I will post submissions time permitting, with at least one per day. Editing will be limited to obvious errors of spelling and the like.

Read, follow, share, re-tweet, submit, live, love, spread light! Don’t forget to use #100Days100Poems !

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#100Days100Poems Day 3

A sharp, smart jab from Margo Berdeshevsky. Poets past join her in her maddened and maddening rage.

NO PEACE IN OUR TIME, IF HE CONTINUES HIS DAYS…

                 “When reason fails, the devil helps! Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment

 


A tweeter who conned to be Prez

in inaugural blitz, spat the SS’s America First

This time his baby-man voice, heard,  

his fist and the darkest of clouds merged

 

Apt portrait of liberty’s soul—fouled,

What gods are his red-hatted audience now?

 

Our nests breaking open, our world —  

watching the stage —

 

We ready the march —

mourners of courage mourners of rage

 

Not my President sung with no chorus of praise

No peace in our time, if he continues his days…

 

A tweeter who tweets like a twit

Tried taming his mockers, to wit

Mad as shit said his mockers to mocked Mr. Drumpf,

If you’d taken a jump we might yet untwist — narcissist,

might have saved our dumbed brain for a democracy, chump.

       

A tweeter who tweets in a snit 

tried taming America’s  wit,  

said his mockers, sir Drumpf undiscerning,

Yeats’s gyre is turning…

Oscar Wilde’s in the wings — live,

“The world is a stage, but the play’s badly

cast”: he’d ram your short intellect

out of your virtual rump…

 

Yet our nests breaking open, our world—  

watching the stage —

 

We ready the march—

mourners of courage mourners of rage

 

Not my President sung with no chorus of praise

No peace in our time, if he continues his days…

 

                                         © Margo Berdeshevsky 1/21/2017

                                                         http://margoberdeshevsky.blogspot.com

 

margo_e-mail

 

 

*****

For the first 100 days of the Trumpet administration, this blog will feature a new poem of protest, by my own hand and by others. They will be polished gems, or rough cut drafts of rage, or in process pieces searching for peace. They may be haiku or tanka, limericks or lyrics, verses free or fettered. If you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. All rights remain with the author. Please address any formatting preferences in your email. I will post submissions time permitting, with at least one per day. Editing will be limited to obvious errors of spelling and the like.

Read, follow, share, submit, live, love, spread light! Don’t forget to use #100Days100Poems !

*****

#100Days100Poems Day 2

Today’s poem comes to us from Catherine Harren Barufaldi. An untitled haiku, its brevity does nothing to diminish its power, or the stark contrast it makes against what we’re fighting.

 

 

Mine will be just fine,
he said. Not enough for me
Since they are all mine.

 

Author: Catherine Harren Barufaldi. All rights reserved.

*****

For the first 100 days of the Trumpet administration, this blog will feature a new poem of protest, by my own hand and by others. They will be polished gems, or rough cut drafts of rage, or in process pieces searching for peace. They may be haiku or tanka, limericks or lyrics, verses free or fettered. If you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. All rights remain with the author. Please address any formatting preferences in your email. I will post submissions time permitting, with at least one per day. Editing will be limited to obvious errors of spelling and the like.

Read, follow, share, submit, live, love, spread light! Don’t forget to use #100Days100Poems !

When the Freeway of Love zooms to a dead end.

The Transporting Nature of Nostalgia

    I miss the days of being stuck at

stoplights

        that great white stripe, three, four lanes across

     from which we all get to go

        protected left on arrow, protected right on arrow

            red yellow green—safety in

                order, order in

                 chaos

Nowadays we’re all on the great concrete way

    fancy German sports sedans blazing

        on the right

past old American hand-me-downs

    poking and prodding along left lanes left

        for passing

& overpasses, overpassing the common volk & the homeless folk

        the strip mall windows and drive-through hopes

     overpasses over the traffic light democratics

    open lanes for overtaking and overbraking

    I miss the days of underground trains and

        on-the-ground buses, their keep-me-in-touch-

        with    humanity    hanging on to

this black strap, that cross bar

            offering my seat to the blue-haired lady

        or the hunched and forgotten vet, my

    reach to the heavens and hanging strap

                to over stand these passengers

    and this public transport transporting

        to overstanding

                        beyond the Big Budget Expressway, costly toll

            for the         mega-traffic, stock still

            as the         mega-steeple

            and the         mega-cross

            from the     mega-church

                mark time and distance to making it

home

        The Big Concrete Way: the Parking Lot of the Future

            always between exits, never getting to speed

    I miss the days of walking blocks, strolling hat-tips to

            friends, friendly hellos to vendors and

        vagrants and visitors and café-seated voyeurs

    I miss elbow bumps and excuse mes and

        lovely days and walk signals and don’t walk waits

            and pretty dresses and shiny leather shoes

                and setting my own pace and avoiding

        dog droppings and paper crumples and ice patches

            and even the occasional “you dropped this”

            or “no after you”

            or “could you tell me how to get to —”

At what cost the Freeway, with its perpetual deconstruction-construction

    orange cones lining narrow lanes and late-night delays

where speed limits jump and cruise controls shudder

    where parkways are

                from

                5AM to 9AM

                    &

                    3PM to 7PM

    moon day to fried day

            speed on down, speed on down the road

        past these people and these problems

            past these parties and this progress

        speed on down, speed on down the road

            Don’t you carry nothing that might be a load

                what with the exits not clearly marked and all