Archive Digging

I'm going back now, back to my recent past, exploring my older poetic works and journal entries, (in actual journals, mind you!) so the next several posts will be stuff I rediscovered.  During the Bush years, I was angry.  My poetry reflects that.  Before Joe, I had a tough time, too, and that shows up as well.  So all was not always light and sunshine and happy and peace in my world.  Anyway, please enjoy these slices of my history, and I will try to include the better times in there, too.  Here's the first Bush era work, but sometimes, even today, I find it relevant.  I give you...

Exit Strategy

Why the struggle?
Why the fight?
Why the spike
driven into the skull
again and again?
No reprieve, no relief,
no signs of decency, humanity,
just angry voices,
gritted teeth and clenched fists,
seething and straining,
but never gaining
control over a hopeless situation.

Spitting blood and fire,
wrath, ire, deep desire
to see some change, any change
in direction, a flicker
while I just get sicker
every day watching
the horror show unfold around me.

And where is your god,
or my fellow man?
A hand, please.
We're all trapped,
drowning in quicksand.
Solid ground is a myth,
and I'm not convinced
Any part of this nightmare is real.
How could it be?
How can there be
bottomless apathy,
unfathomable misery,
brutal inequality,
complete incivility?

I don't want to wander
lost in the darkness any longer,
I cannot stand on the shore
and watch us all sinking,
gasping, choking, thinking
that help is coming.
It doesn't feel right
observing the plight-
Everyone I know
losing the struggle,
losing the fight,
losing the strength,
the will to stand
and face an enemy
who refuses to be seen,
refuses to come clean
and reveal its treachery.

An answer, a sign,
is all I need,,
a reason to believe
that the struggle, the fight,
has some point,
some conclusion,
an end that does not involve
Total annihilation.