revolvers revolving
one hand to another—

first kissed with moon’s peace,
carries the war of Mars, the other.

bang, bang, bang,
no, uprising can be silent.

inked feathers, decades-old,
once leak cold defiance.

fast forward to our rich well of false news
as constant as the setting, rising sun,

an age where those who let their voices be heard
are deemed nonsense, complaining tin cans,

by those who let their swords down
to blindly worship the cursing elected one,

ironic how we’ve evolved as the wisest
yet most foolish version of a man.

©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
For dVerse Poetics: Revolution

28 thoughts on “ironies”

  1. “ironic how we’ve evolved as the wisest
    yet most foolish version of a man.”…this is epic Rosie…you speak way beyond your age (i say it with gracefulness)as most people older and supposed wiser than you are, are either too dumb to understand or too arrogant to even consider..

    I hope one day we witness the kind of change we always wanted..

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Very beautifully and eloquently penned about revolution of man. I love the first few lines the most with the planets both with war and peace. That is such amazing imagery. I love this!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sister, you do a great job poetically analyzing the current human situation. We should be so much wiser, judicious in our preferences, embracing the good. Yet we are more devoted “to our rich well of false news”–a well that, like a well, we keep returning to. We should be strong in our insistence for a better day, but there are too many “who let their swords down” in order to favor the “cursing elected one.”

    Powerful work!

    Liked by 1 person

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