Turning Away

So delicately lovely is this morning, with its
Still-cool, cloudless sky, its gentle breeze,
The freshly rain-washed trees, it seems almost
A tragedy to glance away to read the news,
And be reminded that a sort of Midas
Of the chamber pot is hard at work in Washington,
His touch turning all things to shit. That children
Cry, alone, in jails, and men and women, nearly
Starving, look up, and are blown to bits.
The ocean's filled with plastic now. The planet
Cooks while those who profit from its warming
Say all's well. A million people throng the streets
To protest an injustice, to be met, not by those
They elected, but by truncheon-wielding thugs
And bullets. Will the day be ruined? No!
I close the screen which shows the horrors of those
Other worlds, and choose, instead, to celebrate
The beauty of my own.




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2019-06-12 at 19:21

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one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Acknowledge reality, choose not to let it be your everything, appreciate what you can. This is the "hard and sweet," as my friend says. The positive ending is a departure, and welcome. Excellent.
2019-06-13


Bibek
I like the reference of Midas. Then a plethora of problems seep in: from plastic in the oceans to the bloody warfare. At the end, the turning off of the screen is an act of denial. I like the twist and turns! Well-writ, Larry.
2019-06-13