Opinion,  Poetry,  Uncategorized

America Is Burning

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I’m not seeing it as much on Mainstream Media as I was a week ago, but it’s still all over my social media and independent services. Protests, anger, people whose eyes are finally open to the racism all around us. Spread across the world.

Eight minutes and 46 seconds.

I live in Canada and we often pride ourselves on how much better we are than the States when it comes to pretty much every social issue you want to name. Better isn’t the same as good, though, and you can find plenty of news stories just in the past week to show that we have a lot of the same issues and the same problems and the same blindnesses as our neighbour to the south. We don’t talk about them as much because we don’t really want to see them, but they’re there.

And we’re not on fire at the moment. At least, not yet.

I’m writing all the time and poetry has always been a piece of things for me. The poem that follows is a small chunk of my emotional reaction to what’s going on in the US, but I’m worried about Canada, too. The poem is a week old now, and could have been written a week or more before that if I could have put the words together.

A couple of days ago, I managed to find the verbal expression to record myself reading it, and posted it on my under-used Youtube channel. If you’re interested, I’ve embedded the video below the poem.

Stay safe and be well, everyone.

And stay angry. Channeling that is the only way things will change.

America is burning
And so many wonder why
America is burning
Its promises lost in lies
Of a nation built on ashes
Soaked in blood, and scarred by lashes
Its leader, whose constant tweeting
Serves the beating
Of his chest, his old and pasty minions
Offer the same stretched-thin opinions
Of entitlement and division
Bring a new collision
Every moment, sowing hate and fear
Grinding down any who should appear
To disagree
With the myth that they are free
Because, obviously,
America is burning.
And it’s difficult for me
To find a way to see
Why it isn’t just and right
For the fires to roar through day and night
The silenced voices to be heard
The nation’s vision a bit less blurred
Except by tears
For lives lost over years
Awaiting more than heart-felt words
To soothe despair still churning
Underneath the golden sheen
Of an ever-tarnished, dying dream
America is burning

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Learning from his children how to follow his dreams again, Lance has long since allowed his writing to slip over the border into obsession, and typically has too many projects in progress. Dividing his time between traditional and independent publishing, he still finds time for spirited discussions with the technology around him,

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