RESIST

resist-final

RESIST

 by Hugh A Tague
Gaslights gloaming deep amber rhetoric
 A train-wreck in reverse derailed in time
 Casting alternate darkness over hope
 Death and delusion with every pen's stroke.
 The desert's sand thick with my brother's blood
 Boots on the ground children in harm’s way
 Our body and mind no longer our own
 Jackals from afar secured his gold throne.
 Constitution of the people not of one president.
 RESIST all that's not true there is no alternate.

The Crude Colossus

The Crude Colossus

The Crude Colossus
by Hugh A Tague

Not unlike a brazen giant of freak fame,
With transplant faux hair and a bad spray-tan;
Here at his brain-washed, iron-clad gates shall stand
A mighty moron with a torch, whose flame
Is the persona of gaslighting, and his name
Betrayer of Exiles. From his beacon-hand
Glows world-wide “No-Trespass” sign; his eyes scan
The bridgeless harbor that his sinful cities frame.

“Return to your ancient lands, you matter not!” cries he
With puckered lips. “I don’t want your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses scheming to steal from me
Such wretched refuse shall not set foot upon my shore.
Send these, the homeless, back across the sea,
The light’s off and I locked the door!”