General Poetry posted February 9, 2018

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Contributions From Our Immigrant Artisans

Sacred Songs Once Sung (see notes)

by easyeverett1

The builders brought the vision
With a brilliance in design.
Their courage of decision
Crossed the angry, salted brine,

In search of new salvation
Filled with passion their art,
They captured sweet elation
When restraints were torn apart.

As engineers electrified
Thin etchings drawn in ink -
The architects conceptualized
Artistic dreams to think.

Their ancient skills of vision
Were a call to sanctify
The soul without derision
And without an alibi.

Belief in dreams alone
Defeat the threat of death,
As winds of truth are blown
With each and every breath.

Their souls are seared inside blue-steel
Now bound with mortar to the stones.
These ragged rogues once bled for real
With honor drilled inside their bones.

Their monuments now battered
Into shards of shattered glass
That lie as fragments scattered
In a steel and stone morass.

Plastic people pouring out
Wear right-wing Rockwell faces;
Crazy words they blindly shout
While leaving putrid traces.

The mighty do meander,
As they mark their mottled way
And fill the fetid spaces
With the stink of their decay.

It is this degradation
And the darkness of deceit
That's seen in every ghetto
As no secret on the street,
Symbolic of the hypocrites' custodial conceit.

All pretense of perfection
Can provide but brief protection
From the madness at the margins of the mind.
And to the soldier's on the field
The liars soon will be revealed
As weapons turn to lock and load in kind.

The promise was perverted
By the pompous and the proud.
While men of honored greatness
With their genius speaking loud,
Are pushed aside by brokers
Who collect the lesser crowd.

They break and tear away another's dreams
As hopes of men are sadly turned to dust,
While wrecking balls, beleaguered by their schemes,
Have raped and scourged a solemn promised trust:
To never tear the sacred temples down,
But promises were broken all around
For riches found and plundered neath the ground.

'Twas genius of those immigrants;
In death how proud they stand,
Their contributions prominent
In this, their chosen land.

The people once paraded with great passion and great pride,
To serenade with songs they love the sacredness of soul;
The past should be protected by the present to provide
A living link to history that unifies the whole.

I hear their vital voices still
Reverberate as one
As out of sacred shelters spill
The sacred songs once sung.


Poem written with mixed meter and rhyme.

When my wife and I and sometime our sons are in Europe we all are so impressed with the universal attitude of preserving architectural history. This poem was written as reaction to our own anxious need to destroy monuments of artisan labor for profit and greed. Just my cynical opinion of our throw away society. Thank you for reading my homage to our IMMIGRANTS who gave us beauty and diversity for the greatest wage they ever received; liberty. easyeverett
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