Overwhelming, the number of letters Your soul can handle, Before it all comes crashing done. Twelve letters, rolled off the tongue, Held in abeyance only by the off switch. How? Why? And the answers pull me Into a world I do not know. Positions on humanity that spout And sputter into being based On a nameless fear of something... Political parties spare for the news Broadcasting a descent from known facts Until even the broadcasters must turn away. Limits on being human, kind, mindful, Actions based on color, mindset, empty empathy. "Don't let them in." No, not out either, For a four year old refugee might Play games of war as youth becomes teen. It's a ridiculous argument, Holding that a sixty-five year old... Change all that was good, helpful, given As a gift from government. Make it void of Color or charm and let me scream My frustration at the overwhelming hatred Of bigots, fanatics, tv viewers... They sing a song of hatred, without A single why. One hundred thousand visas, Cancelling hope. Banks cheering, burdens given, Regulations falling, Morality redefined Millions of mothers standing, fist raised to the morn. Overwhelming, twelve letters becoming twenty-four. Discourse to hold off the helplessness Of being Disabled, a woman, unable, wished able, To make the world step back into sanity. Not the globe, My world, my resolve, my liberty. You threaten me at your peril, for I think. I write. I protest and resolve. I turn, I hide nothing, I am...and being I must Prevent this overwhelming sense of doom. Overwhelmed as we rise, surrounded by void. By Twelve letters that roll off the tongue. Easy letters. Ts and Ls, Es, O, a G. Government stating that there are none of the above. Twelve letters that hold us back. W, V, R, H, M Twelve letters to define the abject despair, Actively adding the ing to the pile We face now, with limits on rights, hopes, dreams, loves, friends, health, Overwhelming. And continuing...
Oh, there were sassy ladies,
Rolling and hip swaying
In voluble conversations each
One stepping and braiding
the words of each other.
Independent and political, boldly
careening while dancing lightly around
The naysayers who stood in shocked conversation.
Stern proper women wearing white
and stiff collars approved by their husbands.
They frowned down on them,
These rotund and happy women
Who were tapping and rapping,
Skipping and hopping in intricate circles.
Drum banging, round singing, fluting tunes,
Playing. Shouting joyous news over baskets
Of biscuits, of blossoms, of brightly
Colored laundry, of fresh bread and
School books, holding hands like children,
Vividly recalling their sweet loving
Mothers who had danced as they toiled
With hip swaying chatter filled
With love everlasting as they twisted
The language of families belonging
Around Maypoles and harvest, children,
And Husbands slowly leaving in abeyance
Those pursed lipped disapprovers
As the long walk home followed fence and field.