l stand in awe and
   disgust
as l watch evangelical
Christians subject themselves to
moral gymnastics
trying to
  reconcile their faith with their
fear and hatred.
They place the teachings of Christ
on a virtuous scale alongside
the words,
    the actions, and
           the deeds
of the politician they elected and
somehow
they find a way to proclaim
balance.
That kind of
     tortured calculus
is as impressive as it is
repugnant.

Someone put an
     asterisk
in the Constitution and the
Declaration of Independence
when we weren't looking.
They added terms and conditions,
the ones nobody bothers to read
until they're ****** by them.

We live in the 'Land of the Free', asterisk.
We have the right to free speech, asterisk.
We can practice any religion, or none, asterisk.
We have the right of Life and Liberty, asterisk.

Rich, white, men know that the asterisk means
'for me, but not for thee," as they smile and
waggle their eyebrows at one another.

We live our lives surrounded by asterisks.
Truth lives in the asterisks.

America isn't purple mountains and prairies
It isn't 1930's New York City
It's not marble columns and domes
It isn't crazy politicians and gridlock in Washington

And it certainly isn't Red, White, and Blue. Australia, Russia, Slovakia, and Great Britain are all red, white, and blue.
Heck, they're the exact same shades of red, white, and blue

America is freedom
America is tolerance
America is acceptance

America is about taking your traditions
And mixing them with the traditions of people around you

America is about saying what we want to
And not what someone else wants us to

America is about letting the people take the reigns.
"We the people"
It's the first line of the constitution

It's why we have memorials, marble columns, and congress

It's why people died fighting for it

Don't forget it

America is an ideal
Not a place
Not a person
Not an object

America is as beautiful
As we choose to make it
*what do you want it to look like?

She knew then
War is hell
On God's green earth
She heard Satan’s bell
The men approached
An officer and a priest
She fell to her knees
Her joy deceased
Her prayers betrayed
All the good lost
Silently hoping
Knowing freedom's cost
The ultimate sacrifice
To give up a son
And now he is gone
How can she live on
To tell a mother
Of her grievous loss
There are no words
Only another cross

As she plummets
Into the abyss
The spirit moves
Delivering a silent kiss
Her life shattered
The garden forgotten
Dinner has become cold
Will her heart ever soften?
Hatred where there was love
Bitterness all she can feel
As their lips moved
Words shock does conceal
She stares into the night
Nails piercing her memories
His face the shattered mirror
Where she found all her worries
Floating in front of the bullet
She wipes his brow
There is nothing in this life
Nothing matters now
She covers his pale body
As the blood of life flows
He shivers touching her hand
She smiles because she knows

The mercenary
Loves his mother
It is her special place
There is no other
Did he call for her?
Did he have time to cry?
Or did death give him leave?
An honorable way to die
His duty to his country
Planted the seeds of pride
Now he is dead
She wondered if soneone lied
Is it time for anger
To walk down hatred’s trail?
She prayed every night
Hoping for a holy veil

"I pray for my son
Oh Lord remember his name
Spare him a short journey
Do not give Satan true aim
Return him to me
The one who bore the pain
I only ask for life
All mothers ask the same"

And now her prayer
Has become profane
What once passed her lips
Will never be spoken again
Can she turn the other cheek
For the unknown ******
Or for his “superior” officer
Who gave the order to the killer
Was he expendable
As a stone over the breach
Did the others to climb
Leaving the dead on the beach?
Did his killer survive?
Or is his mother bitter?
The sons of ambition
Are now only its litter
Glory is no solace
As we struggle with a memory
Life must go on
But not in a cemetary
Did one more death
Win the war?
He was proud to go
Now she wonders what for

She is gone now
Whispering at the end
We were not there
Flowers we did not send
She never saw butterflies
Or heard birds each day
She only thought of her son
Hoping God knew the way

I watch my own son
He smiles with his friends
I wonder about the flag
That covers our sins
It was folded for her
Forever never to wave
Will it sit in a drawer?
Whose life will it save?
Can I offer him for freedom?
As Abraham offered Isaac?
I cry as I feel the shame
Courage is what lack
Did her son die in vain?
Will my son soon follow?
Or will I spit out
The pill others swallow?
How can I comfort
A woman I never knew?
Tell me the answer
What should I do?
I ask you the same
What would you do?
There are no answers
You love your son too
So as we fall silent
I will pray over how she bled
Hoping never to see lips move
Telling me my son is dead

Day is done.
Gone the sons.
The daughters and the mothers,
the fathers and the others.
Tomorrow arises,
and more advisers
will give opinions
on the public’s attitudes
of which longitudes and latitudes
justify our intervention.
And which friends’ atrocities
we’ll ignore, and which we’ll tsk tsk.
But at what risk
do we apply our double standards?
And how many more standards will be borne
by how many ships and worn
by how many caskets?
Does not each double standard double the standards
covering caskets, arriving in plane loads?
Our politicians believe it’s better not to ask it.
Better not to ask that question, and bite the hand that feeds
the coffers and the coffins.

Did you see them take the green fields
one by one, now line by line on hills in echelon?

Still, holding ground held holy by their sons;
no longer marching to the smoke and drum.

Where bugler called the day to final rest,
now silence grows like lichen on the stones.

For those who gave their all at our behest,
our memories alone will not atone.

Do you see the fires burning at a distance,
and more hallowed ground broken day by day?

Each new stone laid a fading reminiscence;
each new boquet soon fading into gray.

What better way to honor sacrifice
than to pause and speak their names aloud.

Until the gods of war are pacified;
until our flag no longer serves as shroud.

When you were old enough
You answered the call to serve
Many friends among you
Didn't have the nerve

Off to basic training
Learn to fight a war
Time to become a man
Off to a foreign shore

Battles you will face
Put your life on the line
Dying for your country
To you that would be fine

For our freedom
You paid with your life
Leaving your parents
Kids and a wife

Thank you for your sacrifice
A cost we cannot repay
Allow us to honor you
On this Memorial Day

Our Country
Forever in your debt
Promises that...
We will never forget

For you who served
So others might live.
Some of you gave
All you had to give.
We lost some of you
And it broke our hearts
But, live or die you all
Stood up to do your part.

For those of you who served
When some could not go
You overcame obstacles
That we will never know.
But because you stood
And fought against villainy
You have an honored place
In our country’s history.

No stones can be stacked
High enough to balance
The mothers who lost
Their children in battles
And no speeches made
Can ever appropriately say
What your sacrifice has meant
To every one of us today.