I’m so tired of all the division and hatred. Yet, I feel my own anger increase daily over the destruction of our country at the hands of those who want power and money and to force their religious beliefs on all.
as flame throwers throw
words filled with malice.
Lies pour from a chalice
of a tyrannical project,
blueprints building a church
inside our capitol.
The con is locked in place,
the grifter-in-chief lines his pockets,
gilds the People’s House
in gold and marble,
while the people in their houses
scrape to fill their pantries,
stretch their paychecks,
swallow their pills,
and struggle to quiet
the storm of uncertainty.
“In God We Trust”
hangs above doorways and foyers,
faith twisted from devotion
to division -
no longer a bridge
between us and the divine,
but a wall separating
the worthy from the damned,
a litmus test
for Christian Nationalists.
The truth is out there, right?
Or is it?
How can it be
when media censors itself,
when corporations acquiesce,
when universities silence dissent?
The King requires your submission.
His Court requires your head.
Even the jesters are at risk.
He is no King Arthur
with noble purpose.
His knights are soulless drones,
sent to destroy the light,
driven to make this land white,
ruled by men again,
powered by the rest of us.
They are almost here.
Wake up.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 35 times
Written on 2025-10-09 at 18:34
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The Gospel of Power
Hatred grows,as flame throwers throw
words filled with malice.
Lies pour from a chalice
of a tyrannical project,
blueprints building a church
inside our capitol.
The con is locked in place,
the grifter-in-chief lines his pockets,
gilds the People’s House
in gold and marble,
while the people in their houses
scrape to fill their pantries,
stretch their paychecks,
swallow their pills,
and struggle to quiet
the storm of uncertainty.
“In God We Trust”
hangs above doorways and foyers,
faith twisted from devotion
to division -
no longer a bridge
between us and the divine,
but a wall separating
the worthy from the damned,
a litmus test
for Christian Nationalists.
The truth is out there, right?
Or is it?
How can it be
when media censors itself,
when corporations acquiesce,
when universities silence dissent?
The King requires your submission.
His Court requires your head.
Even the jesters are at risk.
He is no King Arthur
with noble purpose.
His knights are soulless drones,
sent to destroy the light,
driven to make this land white,
ruled by men again,
powered by the rest of us.
They are almost here.
Wake up.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 35 times
Written on 2025-10-09 at 18:34
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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