come one, come all.
gather 'round, gather 'round the table.
you'll find your invitations—
corporations' coupons—packed
between stories of Indigenous
People, shot by militarized cops in riot gear.
Water Protectors defending the river
while a black snake rears to poison the well.
tear gas, rubber bullets, and concussion grenades
replace ragged blankets draped in smallpox.
a tradition rooted in genocide
upheld in frigid North Dakota.
no need to ponder
the lasting legacy
of a leader who campaigned
on "hope" and "change." a hypocrite
continuing a tradition of colonial
aggression, lying by omission.
just another facet
of his presidential profession.
so drown the news of a fascist's
election in gravy and eggnog,
viscous substances to gorge
yourselves on. Nazis vandalizing
black churches with swastikas
must've escaped your notice.
vacuous, preaching
that Jesus is the reason
for the season, but i think
your savior would flip
your Thanksgiving Table over.
flimsy pretenses of gratitude
discarded hours later, chasing deals
before your stomach could even settle.
your brand new 4K TV
cost you over $4K, but couldn't give you
a clearer picture. you continue to disregard
the smoke signs and headlines,
pursuing the material.
consume!

You're in my blood.

Running through my veins,
while jumping to conclusions
And skipping over rationality.
•
slipping nakedly, ragingly, fearfully into that familiar muddy water
swirling with the same doubts,
The same resentment.
Floating in the heaviest way.
•
You're in search of the culprit,
shifting blame & igniting into terror
what was just mere fumes.
•
Your gravity seeping deeply through my sternum, my heart.
The subtle clenching, gnawing ache.
A swell welling up within my chest
•
And when the wave crashes,
It pulls you into the undertow
Drowning you with peaceful thoughts, saving my breath for breathing in life. Fastening anchors to your talons and casting you off without a second thought.
•
I regain myself when I throw you overboard. I again become purposeful, diligent, confident. And although I know you'll be back again periodically, one day I hope to find a way to forget your name.
•
Your name is Anxiety, Your name is Depression.

Marching up the hill with his fellow troops,
His insides are ready to burst with anticipation.
Growling and bubbling, his stomach seems to sound off as his hands quiver holding his rifle.
The soldier cannot turn back, as he must fight for his freedom against evil,
Though the art of having a choice has been long forgotten.

This soldier knows not of his fate.
He's petrified of what is to come,
Whether he survives or not.
If he dies,
He dies with honor,
yet he's not afraid of dying.
He's afraid of being forgotten.
If he survives,
He survives with honor,
Not expecting of a soul to recognize the sacrifice he has made for his own,
And failing to discover it as he lives on.

His beliefs are meaningless,
His pride is no longer relevant.
What requires quality is the strength to fight,
To fear no man aiming to take away his freedom,
And his life.

Facing what can be assumed as evil,
Yet never needing to know what true evil is really like.
The soldier has seen evil,
Evil awaits again willingly.
But he is not afraid.

"Another day
And another mass shooting
In America"

When will we notice?
When will this be the headline:

"Another day
Since the last mass shooting
In the world"?

The taller you are,
The longer it takes to sink
In this quagmire.
Reach down,
Extend me your hand,
So I can throw you a rope
From solid ground.

A wise man once said:
“Wrong life cannot
Be lived rightly” [1]
Many become aware of
This fact, but rather than
Taking action, they instead
Resign themselves, to
Hopelessness and despair,
As doubt rears its ugly head,
Asking: “what can one person do?”
All the while, neglecting the fact
That this world overflows with
People who are just like they are,
Each of them “just” one, and
Each alone bearing the same burden,
Indeed, on the back of “just” one,
This burden is crushingly heavy, but
On the backs of many, it becomes
Lighter than a fallen leaf
Adrift in the autumn breeze.

They say their is calm now,
smells of spent munitions subsiding.
Lying around and ferried under a different blue the viewers and listeners, the diners and walkers.
One witness speaks of the bodies so high his wife could not climb over,
another of explosions a block away.
Carnage the reporter says as a man mentions the sight of men in black entering a music hall with Kalashnikov rifles, him gifted a choice not to enter.
The news speaks of pierced body parts, an arm, a leg, a shoulder, so many dead, 120 the number that exist no more, rising, many many more the casualties of this next step in a new world war.
Flashes and bangs, whistles and booms, sirens scream as forces reign down.
Tears, shock, the misery on faces, much sadness heaped on a peace seeking nation.
We now know some say why they chose Paris, some claim it is the fault of the west.
Others of ignorance by intelligent beings that choose violence instead,of democracy, though democracy to them has lost its edge to a world full of capitalist cronies who themselves choose numbers over humanity, so's said.
We are left to pick up pieces of what is left behind, we will grow stronger in the face of adversity.
Hoping one day that the so called wise people are wise, seeing solutions instead of this continuous cycle of violence and death.
Nos pensées vont à tous ceux qui sont touchés, nous montrons la solidarité avec le peuple français et à leurs invités.