Revolutionary Poetry – The Poetry Of J.P.

Build Back Better

Do not believe bankers, princes,
or governments; for all their wealth,
glittering gold, and grasping at control,

How could we
leave you at the shore,
or forget you
or the image of those little boats.

My vast kingdom, larger than France and Spain
led a crusade against conquest and genocide,
I did not have birth right, nor did I take it by sword,

When among men will come the cost of deeds?
what mad pursuit of silk and gold is this
that we, we happy breed of men have let

I must have toddled as well as the best,
but being uneasy by my crib

Let the elite country clubs become grave yards.
Come and erect the boards,
and let low the noose, and let known the deeds

A poem I wrote while thinking about the lost statue, “The Poet at the Gates of Hell,” now known for just it’s center portion, The Thinker.