Sep 2017
I. The Picket Line
I met God on picket lines
he chose a side, it was not mine
still I pressed to have my say
not knowing how the future lay
a tale of woe will be shared
of deity that met my gaze
foreshadowed by his paragons
firm in belief of one true cause
the barricades held back the ranks
with civil guards in between
doing best to keep the peace
neutral bastions of the law
though their mission was noble
they were too few to stem the tide
when the righteous sought to show
the holy ire towards their foes.
II. Holy Warriors
The signs came first with bold exclaims
of justice and equality
if the color, creed, or bent of mind
was the same, not deviant
our sins were stated for all to see
already judged as a disease
the judge had spoken, jury agreed
now the hangman would be met
God put on his human face
the holy warriors with grace imbued
holding high their sacred tools
ready to tame the Devil's spawn
fervent zeal to prove their worth
divinity stamped in snarling shouts
redeemer embraced with baseball bat
they descended upon my lot.
III. The Fall
I had only words as my shield
insufficient against the blows
with dirging background of gospel chants
solid whacks as choir's response
less than a minute passed on that day
as holy justice was dispensed
praise from the angels on most high
another sinner had been dispatched
against his flock I'd drawn my stock
to represent the lesser ones
now I've finally met my God
with my life as entry pass
his true believers had their say
with the edge of sticks and shields
as I bore witness to their acts
Lord help those on picket lines.
© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170907.
I met God on picket lines
he chose a side, it was not mine
still I pressed to have my say
not knowing how the future lay
a tale of woe will be shared
of deity that met my gaze
foreshadowed by his paragons
firm in belief of one true cause
the barricades held back the ranks
with civil guards in between
doing best to keep the peace
neutral bastions of the law
though their mission was noble
they were too few to stem the tide
when the righteous sought to show
the holy ire towards their foes.
II. Holy Warriors
The signs came first with bold exclaims
of justice and equality
if the color, creed, or bent of mind
was the same, not deviant
our sins were stated for all to see
already judged as a disease
the judge had spoken, jury agreed
now the hangman would be met
God put on his human face
the holy warriors with grace imbued
holding high their sacred tools
ready to tame the Devil's spawn
fervent zeal to prove their worth
divinity stamped in snarling shouts
redeemer embraced with baseball bat
they descended upon my lot.
III. The Fall
I had only words as my shield
insufficient against the blows
with dirging background of gospel chants
solid whacks as choir's response
less than a minute passed on that day
as holy justice was dispensed
praise from the angels on most high
another sinner had been dispatched
against his flock I'd drawn my stock
to represent the lesser ones
now I've finally met my God
with my life as entry pass
his true believers had their say
with the edge of sticks and shields
as I bore witness to their acts
Lord help those on picket lines.
© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170907.
"On Picket Lines" was influenced by a social blog and the music I listened to while writing the poem. The social blog was a passionate tirade that seemed state the SJWs (social justice warriors) deserved to die because they were enemies of God. The more compassionate understanding of the blog was that SJWs are pretty much worthless, so death would be OK, given that they are an affront to holy matters. Either way, the message is harsh. I suspect the writer was speaking to a faceless SJW monster. Unfortunately I, one of their social contacts, placed myself in that category.
I considered if this emotional outbreak could be matched by SJW dialogue. I decided yes, the writer did not have the corner of emotional speech all to themselves. I was prepared to write a poem about protesting people meeting half-way, with God being found in the middle. THEN I listened to a handful of songs by the band group Planet P Project. Songs on their albums "1931" and "Levittown" turned my thoughts to a much darker place. A three part poem was the end result.
I considered if this emotional outbreak could be matched by SJW dialogue. I decided yes, the writer did not have the corner of emotional speech all to themselves. I was prepared to write a poem about protesting people meeting half-way, with God being found in the middle. THEN I listened to a handful of songs by the band group Planet P Project. Songs on their albums "1931" and "Levittown" turned my thoughts to a much darker place. A three part poem was the end result.
