#political #poetry #COVID19

onshore wind

singing in the key of blue minor
the wind carries the sorrow of the world
in a wordless universal tongue
wrapping me in a melody that
penetrates my chest with a sea of grief
midnight waves punctuated by cymbals
commemorating each new disaster
slosh against bone as the dead rise
to dance a mirthless jig
out of time but never out of mind
prophets say summer is the quietus
that will still this hellish song
but i am not deceived by this propaganda
and refusing this cup
weep useless tears as the sea level rises

© 2020 RC deWinter

Published in The Abstract Elephant Magazine @Abstract_Elphnt September 2020
This #poem addresses the failure of the current US administration to respond to the pandemic, as well as its systematic denial of science and sidestepping of the Constitution and Rule of Law.
The lies, abandonment of responsibility and stoking of divisiveness have caused and continue to cause fear, chaos, hatred violence and death.

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More from @RCdeWinter

19 Oct
I'm going to tweet photos of some of the people who support @realDonaldTrump and the rest of this #IllegitimateRegime. Just to let the world know the company his oh-so-Christian and other supporters keep.
Be afraid. Then #FightBack
All credit to photographer @petersonpixs/@NYMag
THESE ARE THE PEOPLE WHO EMBRACE #Drumpf & his message of #hatred, #WhiteSupremacy, #intolerance, #racism, #bigotry, #xenophobia, #misogyny etc.
And after seeing these images, I want ONE notable #Christian preacher to explain to me & the rest of the world how/why s/he can support #Drumpf, whose message, history & lifestyle is antithetical to all that Jesus preached.
But not one will step forward b/c there IS no defense.
Read 21 tweets
19 Oct
#political #poetry
the rapture

when ice cream became plaster
every lawyer was a bishop
and vice versa
what we took for wisdom was
a fool's tale dressed in prophet's skin

in hidden kitchens acolytes brewed vats
of jealousy spiced with powder
ground from tarnished silver
in cathedrals varnished with dollar bills
locust tongues preached toxic gospel
and choirs sang the praises of butchers
wrapped in the robes of christ

the communion wine was green
but thirsty for salvation
we all drank deep from the chalice
as often as it was passed
when we were good and drunk
we scrambled up what we thought
was the ladder to paradise
as the organist mangled nearer my god to thee

we pushed and shoved our way up
in the grip of competition some fell off
screaming as they hurtled down
to what end we neither knew nor cared
Read 6 tweets
19 Oct
#political #poetry
retrodegradation

we were dreaming of sugarplums and other impossibles
when the wind picked up everything worth taking
and blew it all to hell and gone
left to weather without refreshment
the foundation’s varnish cracked
exposing rotted wood
martyrs
none of them carpenters
stepped forward to repair it

accompanied by the bloodless analysis
of parrots regurgitating acceptable shibboleths
they were cut down in the streets
in the dust of devastation our eyes splintered
unable to focus we feel our way through lawn and marble
wailing and conjecture
propaganda and piles of devalued coinage
Read 6 tweets
19 Oct
#political #poetry
Start Making Sense

As everything disintegrates
I wade through the bloody mess of life
in hip boots, looking for reason and order.
Hoping the laws of the universe can fix
what no one else can. Or will.

I just want it all – somehow – to make sense.
The eyetooth that broke as I bit into a piece of toast.
Crickets in harness.
The limousine with four flat tires parked in the alley out back.
Kids in cages.

I just want it all – somehow – to make sense.
Doors that fall off their hinges when you open them.
The year you died on my birthday.
Bodiless gloves telling off-color jokes.
Improvised morgues crammed with body bags.

I just want it all – somehow – to make sense
Read 7 tweets
19 Oct
#political #poetry
at the mouth of the tomb

fatigue is
my raincoat it's been
a wet spring
sending a
flood of synthetic dancers
politicians and

heretics
raining down shoddy
counterfeit
coins pour from
hell's own slot machine into
the lap of the world
this is a
near miss comedy
a picnic
of nothing
but yesterday’s cold coffee
and raw injustice

all bridges
burnt windows nailed shut
strings pulled tight
our one brief
opportunity squandered
in petty squabbles
when hunters
the dark efficient
shepherds of
the order
emerge from the wood armed with
the cross and the sword

i flirt with
the thought of being
a hero
but there will
be no medals awarded
for speaking truth now
Read 4 tweets
16 Oct
#poetry

Fluctuations

Some days I feel bulkier than others,
though it's unlikely my weight changes awfully much
these carbon copy days.
I put no effort into the fueling of my body,
eating like a wild animal in the midst of famine.
Picking at this, gobbling that.
A diet that would horrify the doctor I haven't seen in a decade.
Some days my jeans feel snug.
Others they slide down, waistband hanging on hipbones.
Are these changes attributable to caloric intake,
salt, or some other occult mystery?

I have no way of knowing.
Don't waste much thought wondering.
Read 7 tweets

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