America the Wounded

Oh, beautiful for spacious skies

Except for the ones filled with our childrens’ cries.

This land is your land, this land is my land

One of the 2^nd amendment, lots of guns, and parents' mournful sighs. 

My country ‘tis of thee

With our AK-47s and many rounds 

Let music swell the breeze

Let mothers grieve their dead children, hear those anguished sounds. 

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord

And the Supreme Court rules that the right to bear arms is an individual right

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea

And somewhere along the line the NRA has become our nation's blight. 

God Bless America, land that I love

Make weapons of mass destruction easy to obtain

Hurrah for the flag of the free

And fill our airwaves with vitriol and white nationalism, our saddest refrain.

I pledge thee my allegiance, America, the bold

More guns, more violence, more mass shootings, so many lives wasted

Oh, I wish I was in the land of cotton

Where the seeds of racism were planted, watered, and harvested.

I’m proud to be an American

Where I can own as many guns and ammunition as I desire

God bless America, My home sweet home

And when the dead are counted, never putting white supremacy on the funeral pyre. 

Give me your tired, your poor

Especially if you are white and educated and wealthy

My native country, thee, land of the noble free

And with the NRA owning our congress as far as I can see. 

Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light

News of more mass killings in El Paso Dayton Uvalde Nashville make for fitful sleep

O beautiful for patriot dream

The caskets all in a row, we offer our thoughts and prayers, words pretty cheap.

The Strange Life of Grief

Grief is what we feel when we read the newspaper or watch our preferred news channel only to learn that 17 lives have been destroyed in Florida.

Grief wearies the body

It troubles the soul

It can be about life or death

Or about dreams untold.

It may speak of unspoken hopes

It can be about ideas or places

When it has us against the ropes

It keeps us longing for those other spaces.

It takes hold, sneaks up from behind.

Its clutches are strong and forceful,

It has many things to remind

And no one is respected, no one.

It comes from wherever it comes,

And it goes wherever it goes.

Grief strangles with its hands,

Squeezes the neck of joy.

Wherever it may land

While it removes the colors from the rainbow.

It makes the tastiest of

Morsels taste bland.

Grief asks a lot of questions

It gives but few answers.

It tells us not where we are destined

It forces us into chasms of hang on and let go.

Its forces are vast

And uncontrollable.

It thrives on the past

Its thirst is like the desert or a rainstorm that appears from nowhere.

Its hunger is like an

Animal that is

Lurking about looking for prey.

Grief is like the grave with

No body found down deep inside it.

Grief dulls the senses, robs one of

Words, and

Makes itself the focus as people stare.

Grief keeps us up all night

Filling us with fright.

Grief keeps us occupied all day

Creating things to hold at bay.

Grief reminds us of things we wished

Telling us that all is still amiss.

Grief beats us at every turn

Reminding us that we’ll never learn.

Grief tells us of those who are gone

Reminding us that we’re not really strong.

Grief may let us know who is here

Whispering to our  souls not to hold too near.

Grief is a circle goes round and round

Driving us all right into the ground.

Grief has no beginning or end

When it will leave can only depend.

So, I’ll continue to give voice

To the grief in my soul.

Until that day I’ll rejoice

With all its stories finally told.

Grief. A strange thing.

Grief. A very strange thing.

Grief. It gives us hope.