So Who will pause to Listen, Feel?

 

images-2 images-1

(Okay….This may be a bit absurd.  Photos found on Google Images)

 

Diffused

the loss

the Heroes

the distant brassy ring of Taps

 

Dashed shells of Twenty-one salutes

diluted  and disputed

to new tradition: Avarice.

 

So Who will pause

to Listen, Feel?

 

Sad,

Scout leaders rush to put up flags

while youngsters turn a back,

sleep on

 

Sorry,

State of a Nation when

Litigous leaders write a Law

to make a moment

Silent

So few will heed or hear

 

Instead

“Hey, PASS THE CATSUP!”

Crows a burger bully.

 

Hail to the Chef

on National Hamburger Day

Last Friday

and every day an Open Sign is hung

Fresh buns delivered.

 

Run!

Engines idle inching

Hurry to be first

to Window #1.

 

Forgotten

Saints and Soldiers

Neglected

more the children

to the Stuff Race Diet.

 

Forgotten, Bought, and Sold

a moral code.

Yes.

But thanks to Facebook…

 

At 3:00 p.m. today

The National Holiday Stain is set

as Tradition begets

 

A Moment of Silent

 

Sell Out

 

Mostly to Ingratitude

Impatience, impertinence

Mid  inconvenient

 

Hunger

 

Lies

 

upon the tongues and fingers

Fun girls….Fun boys

Phat Fun rides and  toys

 

or so I read

some days in headlines

NYTimes

and Locally

 

Some Yahoo plowed a cemetary

4-wheeling off-road

 

Another story boasts

Our Youth Will feel the Draft more equally

Salute equality

and cheer Transgendery

in terms of t.p.

 

All this to better pay

the Foolish check We’ve left them.

 

Please answer me.

Just who will ask the ugly questions?

Or call an Emperor naked? Ewww!

So few esteme a questioner, or honest voice, I have concluded.

The troublemakers  make for longer meetings close to BigMac time.

 

“Who will preserve a Once Great Nation?”

A Little Prince cries out from Asteroid B612

A brainy girl from  PS32.

 

But Who? But Who?

Is this the cry of mourning doves

or hoot owls, Patrick Henry?

Parents? Teachers? Holy ones?

 

Amid such greed, indifference?

A breaking heart and rumbling stomach sounds,

Housing something divine and powerful.

 

A Godly Spirit whispers,

But worldly Appetites  often Speak louder

than words of Peace and Kindnesses.

 

We need a Golden Rule of Truth

to heal the  blood and horrors

in the Hell we have created.

 

Such Love for money, power?

In these, there is no Promise.

 

Where are the Once greats?

The Solomons and Davids?

The Service Men and Women aged by tragedy

Who gave their all for Love of Country

Expecting Nothing in return

but sleep and smiles and potroast.

 

All things aside and said,

A hot press turns a wheel to Tuesday’s gallop

As politicians bray and promenade

a foxtrot step

Face Lobbied lemonade stands

toward November

 

Our fallen soldiers toss and turn

beneath that floral blanket.

Does not Ad up, Abe Lincoln.

On decorated plots

a silent Gettysburg is read

into a faulty crackling mic:

dead  outsourced system.

 

a pic nic lunch is spread

on Chinette

replacing Sunday Best and table time

once lovely marble markers

pure, once

nothing could parrallel in holy.

 

A beauty and distruction

bought by

the Greatest Generation

 

Instead, of honoring

 

We wipe our greasy mouths

We toss aside

integrity

like  soiled napkins

 

and then we buy the T-shirt.

 

 

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About hrobertson2013

“Each man ( and mermaid) will be like a shelter from the wind and a refuge from the storm, like streams of water in the desert and the shadow of a great rock in a thirsty land”. Isa 32:2 NIV Warning: The author of this blog is not an ordinary individual. Even Mermaids need a rest from all that's real and grown up. Welcome to the wonder of blog. Come be audience to all that's wet and wild in her stories, poems and thoughts. Instructor by day, super hero by night, and mystical mermaid by summer. Whenever she has the fortune of diving into a pond, reservoir, or mountain waterfall, you'll find her there swimming, and singing songs of life.
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