From Dung, Lepidoptera Soar

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Written in 2014, we had pretty much the same poor, starving and minority-profiled victims as now - only less cameras, and certainly less media coverage. I wondered at the time, why - and foretold a coming revolution if the masses without power continued to be ignored (the 'great typhoon'). Six years later we do seem a bit closer, don'tcha think? ...Loosely inspired from the saying that turbulence of a butterfly's wings in one part of the world could eventually generate a major storm in another global region.

From Dung, Lepidoptera Soar

by Steven Pody, (rev) Sep 17, 2014

 

Comrade Lenin in the dustbin,

and the masses, quite forgot.

Protestors evoke the '60s,

but what they have to say is rot.

 

No fresh blueprint for tomorrow ?

Who drives the winds of civil right ?

Trotsky sports a rusty ice pick.

Today's fanatics scream 'God' and fight !

 

Fat optimists, mute, day to day;

hope the best, and lock the door.

Leaders offer only sound-bites:

Forget that men once dreamed of more !

 

Has social paradise arrived ?

...Quiescence from the Fourth Estate.

Where gust all of those bright ideals

that made 'The Sun King' so irate ?

 

Chavez fresh-picked a righteous harvest,

but since then, ...has his work evolved ?

Sharp critics for Robespierre and Danton,

whose cause decayed, quite unresolved.

 

Yet, somewhere bare-feet step and bleed;

their bodies cry of want and parch.

Oh, ...they're not blind to wealth not theirs:

Pacing hungered cadence

...................with the Long March.

 

But enjoy self-ruse and safe delusion !

New 'Bread and Circuses' !

....................Cute song-and-dancers !

( Has television truly tamed the horde,

and the Internet given all the answers ? )

 

...You are not petty to love your family,

and protect them in some buffer zone.

There's much to do for their tomorrow,

and "charity begins at home".

 

But failed Fidel has blighted faith,

from biding 'pon that bitter coast,

for agitator, Che', to go and win

whatever t'was, once, mattered most.

 

So pay attention, you comfy classes...

Wake up!  Some man-spawn seethe in raw !

Marginal; quite forgot as filler,

'tween letter, spirit and justice of law.

 

Yes, inequity in the mortar waits.

Hear all the un-empowered, bleating.

Some day shall return the great typhoon !

...Today, dark butterflies' wings are beating.


Submitted: October 20, 2020

© Copyright 2020 Steven P. Pody. All rights reserved.

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