The Poetic Political
Fumings of a Feisty Feminist
Making waves of change, one poem at a time.
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Is the “Mark of the Beast” The Devil’s Highway Where black vultures feast Soaring the skies As they devour death Hidden long tunnels Cartels smuggle meth A road so desolate, Abandoned, foresaken To others it’s become An asphalt beacon Of hope and of freedom To a world full of dreams But to reach it they must Cross mountains and streams Leaving behind Their family and children They strive to survive As an illegal pilgrim Across charred deserts Without any water The sun pelts down Getting hotter and hotter This torturous trail Leaves little behind The Devil’s Highway Marring mankind Refugees of climate and war Scared, tired, hungry and poor. Traveling by foot across miles of land Hoping to find a kind, helping hand. Lost family and loved ones cry tears of sorrow In hopes that they’ll find a better tomorrow. Heartache fills their bodies and souls Starving bellies and empty bowls Callused feet and worn old clothes Living a life that they never chose They’ve seen things, no one should see Struggling to survive as a refugee. As I read the news this morning 4/15/17 I saw a story about more than 2,000 migrants being rescued in the Mediterranean Sea, one teenager had died. I sat down and wrote “Turned Away”. Turned away men, women and children
Frightened of religion blinded by our fear, then We hide in our homes, so we don’t have to see Trapped on the boats we hear their scared plea They are running from pain of horrific oppression Hoping for a life with a positive impression Irrational fear makes us keep them away From our borders, and shores in hopes that they’ll stay In their own lands where they’ll be killed or beaten For believing what they want to believe in. Our country is one from mass global migration A truly beautiful, once standing strong nation But we’ve weakened our soul with fear and aversion While we hold back our hands as things only worsen. Our strength turned to weakness as we cower in the corner Scared of what happens if we let in a foreigner. We turn our backs on the helpless and homeless As we pocket our wealth, such a horrible hostess. The pride of our country is culturally lost When we bury our customs no matter the cost Reason and logic are tossed out the door Like the welcome mat that was once on our floor. No longer are our arms open and wide They ring our doorbell while we run and hide. The word “immigration” tears many apart When it should be so easy to see with our heart. Love one another, no matter your religion United we stand is our one and true mission. |
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Poetry by: AsherahAlthough she was selectively edited out of the Bible two thousand years ago, she raises her voice for women today in hopes of a better tomorrow, as she makes waves of change, one poem at a time. Archives
May 2020
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