America is Burning

This poem was inspired by Billy Joel’s When the Lights Went Out On Broadway

Downtowns never reopened
Even though the virus had gone away.
The mobs looted and pillaged stores
Insurrection was here to stay.
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Disney World was to set to open
Until the sky turned a bright red
From the flames of an angry nation
Mourning another black man dead.
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The lights went out on Broadway
For all who didn’t stand a chance
Against senseless police violence
And the bogus legality dance.
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I stood across in Jersey
Watched Manhattan’s skyline fall
As our governors begged the rioters
To cease looting and end it all.
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America is burning
To whom do we lay the blame?
After months of fear and quarantine
Is rage and anger the only game?
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The lights went out in Washington
The white house burned to the ground
The president fled to Florida
Where now he couldn’t be found.

 

Station 6 – The earth can’t bear this load

At the ninth station Jesus falls for the Third Time. The earth, which God created in love and beauty is now being crushed under humanity’s mishandling of the earth’s resources and the dispersing of pollutants that have created climate changes, famines, and disease. (note: I wrote this in 2017 three years before this coronavirus pandemic. I cannot recall why I used China as where it all started except that they were a global polluter of insane magnitude. So along with the quote from Leviticus this is almost like a prophecy about what was to happen in 2020)
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Lev 26:5 I will send a plague among you, and you will be given into enemy hands.
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The Butterfly Effect
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It flapped its wings in China
As the smoke billowed from the stack.
Now a gentle breeze across the ocean
Turned into a storm on its way back.
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The rain fell in California
El Nino lifted up and blew
To capture all the sulfur
From Chicago’s car plant stew.
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The winds with all contaminants
Met southern breezes light
Knocked head on with Canadian
Cold air in dead of the night.
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All things are connected
On this planet Mother Earth.
The forces meeting over the shoreline
Gave the superstorm its birth.
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The moon was in ascension
The tide was rising high
What started out around the globe
Ended in a destructive sigh.

Station 6 – Social Distancing

In the 6^th station, a woman Veronica, uses her veil to wipe the blood from Jesus’ face. My poem for this station asks, where are the Mother Teresa to help the poorest of the poor? Have we become afraid to touch the “untouchables”? Ironically, today with the virus pandemic raging, it’s not just the “filthy” homeless who are physically avoided. It’s ALL of us as we could be a potential carrier of the virus!
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MK 1:41 Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” 42 Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured.
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Please Touch Me!
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When I was young
And beautiful
You touched me all the time.
This curse of sickness
Ravaged me
Deprived me of my prime.
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It made me ugly,
Made me smell
Repulsed you to the bone.
You turned your face
Denied your touch
Tossed me from your home.
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Deep down inside
The me you loved
Still needs a tender hand.
But all of that can’t ever be
When physical love’s
Been banned.