It’s past time

A cold congress
Clinging to discredited dogma
Escalates, elevates
Aggravates and cultivates
Our culture of hate

Each day, each week
Needless nightmares
Dip to deeper
Depths of despair
Leagues deeper than the past

A good man with a gun
Will some day save us, they say
But he’s seldom present
Prepared or prone to act
In that urgent hour

It’s past time
We abandon our modern myth
Of the good man with a gun
It’s time to replace him
With a good woman with a plan

Leaving the Party

When music shifts
To mad disjointed riffs
With lyrics so vexed
Songs of malcontent

When chatter declines
To rants written as warning signs
Sparking profane rumble
Mumble and grumble

When drinks don’t dull
The rank drift of bull
Saliently served in heavy portions
It’s time to leave the party.

Check out these other poems with similar themes:
The Misinformation Machine
Beguiling Grove
You Did This
Breakfast at the Diner

Beguiling Grove

An orchard
With plentiful
Peaches, pears
And plums

An overseer, however,
Only allows you
To partake
Of cherries
Not already
By bird or bug

“Look at our variety”
Says the pit boss
“We have sweet
And Tart
And Bing”

Amidst words
The Overseer trusts
Our eyes
Pass over
The divergent
Fruit trees at the heart
Of the orchard

Breakfast at the Diner

They talked
of Jesus
between bites
of bacon
and runny-yoke
soaked hash browns

They talked
they mocked
bleeding hearts
shedding liberal tears
for the souls
of the others who are lost

They talked
and chomped
on buttery toast
cheering chains that bind
the others to choices
they’re not allowed to make

They talked
of Jesus
between slurps
of creamy coffee
but the way they talked
I knew

They didn’t know