pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: United States of America

PTSD

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Eighteen years later,
some don’t need a reminder.
How can they forget?

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

ALL IN THE SAME BOAT (Or, “Idyllic,” a Sonnet for Political Sanity)

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Photo by Keith R. Good

When I consider all, from left to right,
I find myself smack dab in center’s eye.
But I am now okay with that, despite
The pressures of a partisan outcry.

Those right of me say I should think as they,
And fault me for the way I lean more left.
While to my left are those who stand dismayed
That I am not (in their minds) more “progressed.”

Yet are we not one vessel, stern to bow?
We need to row as one, or we will sink!
And so let’s work together to learn how
Our center, left, and right can interlink.

Let’s turn off the contemptuous hate speech,
And focus on the positives of each.

 
© Marie Elena Good, 2019

And It Makes Me Wonder

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There’s a man who is sure
That he glitters like gold
And he’s building a wall for safekeeping.
In the office he sought
When he got there he thought
With a word, he could get what he came for.
Oh oh oh oh, and will he build the wall he had promised?

When he speaks, is there truth?
See, I want to be sure,
‘cause I sense that his words have no meanings.
And these memes that we share,
They don’t mean that we care.
Sometimes ALL of our thoughts are misgiving.

Oooh, it makes me wonder.
Oooh, it makes me wonder.

There’s a feeling I get
That’s too much like a threat
That’s expressed as “kind” words are escaping.
Through his acts have I seen
Rings of smoke through the mirrors,
And pained faces of those who are seeking.

Oooh, it makes me wonder.
Ooh, it really makes me wonder.

And it’s whispered that soon there will come a new moon,
And the piper will be charged with treason.
Then a new day will dawn
Talk of walls will be gone,
But will we have the peace we’ve sought after?

Could be a hustler in our Whitehouse,
But how do I know?
It’s just an inkling from what I’ve seen.
Yes, I have seen our politics spun
And in the long run
It’s all talk to spin the road we’re on,
And it makes me wonder.

My head is aching, and I can’t stand
This hate in my land.
The piper’s calling us to join him.
Dear Lady, do I hear you weeping,
And do I see
Indignant tears on the whispering wind?

And as we contemplate our walls,
Do we not stand to lose our soul?
Is our safekeeping worth it all?
Oh Lady shine through harbor’s fog!
Let dialogue be kind and true.
And let us listen very hard,
And tune our heart-song from our past,
When liberty was welcoming
When we were hailed as brave and free,
And we hadn’t closed our stairway to heaven.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

Please note:  Some phrases from the original Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin were intentionally used in this poem. 

“Homeland” A Curtal Sonnet

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Photo by Daniel Kain

Confession time: I sometimes watch Fox News.
And CNN. And MSNBC.
Still here? Okay. Now let me tell you why:
These folks are out to shape our nation’s views.
And even though I’m thankful speech is free,
Both left and right have somehow gone awry.
I fear our news is, by design, whitewashed.
No more can we agree to disagree.
Our nation needs a friendly meal. With pie.
Let’s eat good food and talk. And then you wash,
I’ll dry.

 

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

 

Excited and humbled to discover this poem sneaked into Robert Lee Brewer’s Curtal Sonnet Challenge Top Ten!  To read the winning poem (Under the Rainbow by respected poet Jane Shlensky) and the other Top Ten poems,  follow this link:

http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/wd-poetic-form-challenge-curtal-sonnet 

 

 

America’s Solar Eclipse, 2017

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Photo credit:  Eduardo Munoz/Reuters

These States, United,
looked to the heavens, as one
nation under God

 

#seventeensyllablesfortwentyseventeen

The Monument of Liberty State is photographed while the solar eclipse is seen over Liberty State Island in New York, Aug. 21, 2017.  Photo credit:  Eduardo Munoz/Reuters

Mother of Exiles

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Photo credit:  “Bill” of lovethispic.com

Silent lips call not the privileged,
But the pillaged –
Lifted lamp in hand, pursuing
Pomp’s undoing.
Mother of Exiles’ mild eyes
Don’t canonize ennoblement,
Nor demonize the waifs’ lament.
Her lamp is lit,
Her mission, writ –
“Send these,” her timeless, ceaseless plea.
Dear homeless, come. Be loved. Breathe free.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2016