From A Poet Who Writes About Sunsets To The Poet Who Sings Songs Of Anarchy


I just wanted to say,
I appreciate your meter,
your diction,
your quest for love,
your dream of life,
your freedom.

The sun has set on this world
hundreds, even thousands of times,
while I have been here alive,
and I have seen it.
I have seen it in the desert,
and over the mountain valley,
on the endless prairie,
and under the sea.
I have seen it on the city street,
in the humble town,
and over the suburb sprawling.
I have seen it everywhere in this country,
and in countries abroad,
but it has been far too long
since this country
has stopped and looked to the east
to watch the sun again rise.

The much faster of the two spectacles
and perhaps from some vantage points
the less brilliant or overall interesting.
That calm before the storm that never quite comes
as the yellow light builds on the horizon
until there is a hint of sapphire and crimson
just before the dawn breaks
and that glorious fireball goes high into the sky
like nothing ever happened
and before you know it,
there it is,
it is day.

Yes, it happens so quick it is hard to capture
beyond that deep feeling
a feeling maybe of reluctance,
but usually of hope
of another day,
a new day rising,
a fresh start,
a clean slate
that beautiful cool air
and the brightness of daytime.

These are things that usually are slept through
by most
and maybe ignored by all others
But, you young lady
manage to capture it all
all of this grand moment’s essence
in your simple songs of militance
between the shouts of a demand for change
and the rallying of a non-violent unification
of the people across the land
against their oppressors
both political and circumstantial
I can begin to see
the morning light

We all know the sun has set on this empire,
this corporatocracy,
this hundred years war in the Middle East,
this Wall Street,
this Ferguson,
this military industrial complex privatized prison system,
the fracking,
the deforestation,
the developers,
the privacy encroachers,
this biased media,
this drug war,
this sexist, homophobic, racist patriarchy,

But up until now,
I think most of us have just been wandering in the dark.

Your voice, though,
so clear now
it’s youth and feminine vitality,
it’s individual diversity
bursting over the megaphone
encouraging and hopeful,
compassionate and ethereal,
the words distinct
in their embrace
of those who thought they were powerless.

I see it now
and I am enchanted.

You are the voice of the new day.
You are the sunrise we have all been waiting for.

Let us all be so lucky to hear your poetry.
Let us learn to speak it ourselves
and carry it in our hearts.
Let us not sleep through this moment of glory,
nor forget where the sun set last night.
Let this revolution, you speak of
be quick like the sun’s early morning northernly climb
and its day be especially long
and full of tomorrow’s bounties.
Let us all together now,
find this new paradise
more balanced
and with equality
far away from the evils
of yesterday.


photos are of protests taking place in Los Angeles in response to the tragic death of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri and the grand jury’s decision not to bring his killer Darren Wilson to trial.

From A Poet Who Writes About Sunsets To The Poet Who Sings Songs Of Anarchy

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