Chaotic Thoughts of Freedom
Land of the living and the free,
with lips ziptied locked left and right?
Meanings formed in their own light’s sight.
Is this the home of liberty,
thoughts less of man than a bent knee?
We pick and choose the laws we like,
To hell with the rest, kill it… strike.
People’s tongues are tied up in k n o ts.
The First no longer calls the shots?
The US dies by high heeled spike.
How to write an Espinela or Décima poem.
My entry for this week’s Décima Poetry Challenge NO. 46 (K N O T).
© 2021- Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.
One day, Paradise, brother–the New Jerusalem can’t come soon enough for me. Blessings to you.
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