Poetry

Half of the Time

My heart’s only in it half of the time,

the other half fast fades away

but then for a bit, a moment sublime,

it goes along with the charade.

A bittersweet vision dancing in light,

a vision undoubtedly you,

but fast does it fade and try as I might

my world fades to a shade of blue.

Poetry

A Symbolic Independence

Fireworks flashing in the sky

like a rocket’s red glare,

but why are they there?

And few could answer why.

They sure try

but get lost in a sea of

red, white, and blue,

and drown in their own imagery.

Freedom is liberty,

liberty is freedom;

iconography is but a golden calf

that will fade away

and those higher ideals

of freedom, of liberty, of justice

should never be lost

in symbols–

that which is not the practice

of what it represents

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Potentially, there will be those who interpret this as slam against conservatives, against veterans, against the flag, against *insert cause here*, . . .

I can assure you that that is not the case and was not my intention.

However, that kind of interpretation IS what I’m condemning. Symbols can be great reminders and I certainly see why people hold them so dear. The red, white, and blue stand for something great. But symbols are representations, and unless a person backs up what they supposedly hold dear by virtue of that symbol, what is the point of it? The idea that freedom is something you should be forced to appreciate is a stupid and hypocritical idea. And like all ideas, the threat of force does not increase appreciation (and happens to be the antithesis of freedom anyway.)

So please forgive my little soapbox spiel. I would not consider this a political post and it was not written to ruffle feathers but I wrote all this because I know it could be taken that way by some. And you know what? As much as that fact irks me, it is still their right to do so πŸ˜€ πŸ‡ΊπŸ‡²

Have a safe and happy Independence Day y’all. And if you’re not in the states, just have a good and safe day!

God bless. — the real C. D.

Poetry

Hazel and Blue

I just want to hold you tight

Tell you it will be alright

To help you right all former wrongs

And put the past where it belongs

But here I stand, apart from you,

Helpless, watching shades of blue

Running their course, hearing your cries,

But all is silent except the eyes

Poetry

Something Old, Something New

Stomach and tongue

tied in knots, hitched

on the phantasmagorical,

this old heart beating

anew each day for you,

appreciating each new day

as if something new happened

concerning you

even if

it is on borrowed time

and even if love is not

reciprocated,

these

blue and melancholy

emotions lingering mere moments

on the grander scale

with dreams gone rogue

like six syllable words

worth nothing more

than a sixpence