To the guy in the White House who claims to cherish women

I am a woman.
What is it about us
that makes you see us bleed?
From our faces.
From our eyes.
From our wherever.

How can you cherish women
when you call us
fat pigs
dogs
slobs
bimbos
disgusting animals
a piece of ass?

You do not cherish women.
You loathe us.
You fear us.
You see us as objects.

Literally and metaphorically,
you fuck us.

What transpired to create you?
Were you born this way?
Did your mother love you?

Or is it true that monsters are fed,
not made?

I hope your supporters wake up.
I hope they understand what it means
to honor women.

I hope they stop feeding you.

We need to show
the sons and daughters of today
how not to be you,
tomorrow.

Brenda Warren

Their Their

I have a confession to make
There’s this nagging thought
Almost ever present
Maybe fueled by hope
Maybe fueled by love
Maybe it’s absolutely ludicrous

Still

I keep thinking
That they will
Wake up
That they will
Smell the proverbial coffee
That they will
See the error of their
Voting ways

Almost daily I think
This!
Will be the final straw
This!
Will open
Their eyes
Their hearts
Their minds
This!
Will save
Our freedoms
Our health
Our planet

Almost daily
Disappointment trails
Behind my hope

But I’m not ready to let it go

So here we are
Divided

And I wonder,
Am I their their?

Brenda Warren 2017

Politicking

In this dark nation where votes
Empty opportunity
While crowds cheer
I feel baffled
I fear the fruits of ignorance
Polished and waxed
By those truly tasting
Authority’s glory
They see themselves reflected
In the smiling face of fuck you
Smug. A little bit richer than before
They spin their crime like a top
Whirring and blurring
Our nation’s deep loss

Brenda Warren 2017

Two Elevenies

1. Portrait

Tattoo
Projects worldview
Shiny bald head
A red-circled swastika
Domination

Supremacy
Consumes him
Confederacy, leather, guns
Running with white brethren
Intimidation

2. Resist

Clown
Becomes king
Trumpeting retaliatory tweets
While nothing gets done
Buffoon

Bombing
Boosts buffoon’s
Body of power
His pundits beat drums
Diversions

Protest
Don’t normalize
This scheming GOP
Distracting us from evil
Resist!

Brenda Warren 2017

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Tick Tock

Tick tock
Poppy cock
Hickory dickory dock

A scarlet harlot
A scheming starlet
Creates a hullabaloo
For howdy doody
Her hallowed booty
Reeks hither – ability

Celebrity snatches
At pussy galore
What more
Should a woman
Strive for

Come hither then wither
You dithery dick
Miles from slick
You’re sick

Eventually
Sequentially
The dominoes will drop

Tick tock
Poppy cock
Hickory dickory dock

Brenda Warren

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A skeleton of word pairs took shape quickly following yesterday’s prompt requesting assonance and alliteration. I left them for future use. Struggling to construct a Ghazal for today’s NaPo prompt, I returned to yesterday’s word pairings. This raunchy little rhyme resulted.

Immigration Pantoum

The tears you shed for children dead
Defy principles you proffer.
Months ago you rallied hate
And cheered an “immigration ban.”

Defy principles you proffer.
Form them into nails for your palms.
Go! Cheer your immigration ban,
While sarin gas dissipates.

Pound the nails into your palms;
You do so much for everyone!
While sarin gas dissipates
And Syrian people die,

You do so much for everyone.
Months ago you rallied hate
And Syrian people die.
Please, dry tears shed for children dead.

What right do you have to cry?

Brenda Warren 2017

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An Elegy for America

Truth recoils
beneath a tweeter-in-chief.
A prevaricating bully.
A derisive philistine.
He taints the nation ludicrous
and shits down the throat
of her dreams.

Indivisibility vanishes
as spending is cut
for Planned Parenthood
Meals on Wheels
Before and after school programs
Food Stamps
and the Arts.

Liberty fears
the loss of net neutrality,
jails for profit,
silenced reporters,
and dismantled schools.

Justice for all weeps
when good old boy judges slap
the wrists of rapists.

And when the people elect
a predator,
allegiance falters.

Quick,

do something.

America is dying; she gasps beneath an orange sky.

Brenda Warren 2017

Recipe for Ruination

Spread fake news to
elect a petulant leader.
A pussy grabbing narcissist.
Impulsive and self-righteous.
A cacophonous fibber.
A bully supreme.

Stoke the flames
of the leader’s pants
with media coverage of tweet accusations
to divert the followers
who feast
on his fraudulent crumbs.

Add to this an assembled body of
conservative, indignant, power hungry,
mean-spirited, rich white men
wanting to right imaginary wrongs,
wanting to whitewash government,
wanting to cleanse the stench that blackness
left lingering in the hallowed halls
of this fresh hell.

Imbue with authority to legislate.
Bring to a rapid boil.
Remove from heat and stir in a heaping mound of self-interest.

Recipe serves: 1%

Brenda Warren 2017

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Ruination’s Sway

Saying what you mean
is not meaning what you say.
You shake loose fake news
like feathers as you preen
strutting your stuff across this sinking
ship, bolstered and emboldened
by invisible masses
that feed upon words you
break, bruise, and
misuse.

Saying what you mean
not meaning what you say.

Brenda Warren 2017
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