Political Headwinds (August 29, 2019)

As a Canadian

My eyes

Turn southwards

To the United States.

Fascinated horror

Watching political drama

Unfolding.

As Canadians

We tell ourselves

Trump - impossible.

Reality check

Folks.

Since 1995

Ontario has elected 

A Tea Party (Mike Harris:1995-2002)

And Trumpian (Doug Ford: 2018-present)

Premier.

(Third of Canada

Resides here.)

Toronto's 2018 mayoral election

White supremacist - 3rd 

With 3% of votes.

Canada's largest

Ethnically diverse city.

Unlike the US

Canada can't impeach

Its Prime Ministers/Premiers.

But we can

Have punished them

At election time.

Ask Kim Campbell

Or any Progressive Conservatives MP

About 1993 federal election.

Reducing majority government

To 2 members

Neither one

Is Kim Campbell.

Sigh.

Knowing

Tsunami - fast approaching

And we're not prepared.

Emotionally mentally

Or politically.

For the resulting changes

We must endure

In the coming years.

Deluding ourselves

Thinking - Canadians are

Morally superior

To Americans.

Hiding it better

Behind a false smile

As the knife stabs.

Deep

Into the target's back.

Therisa © 2019

Another Poke To The Bear (April 13, 2019)

President Trump

Your actions and words

Are a constant reminder

Why I can't stay silent

As a transgender Canadian.

Knowing

Right now

A steady stream of tears

Flow down my face.

Reading your latest salvo

Against my American cousins

Serving in the military(1).

Men and women

Who willingly

Place their lives

In jeopardy.

Unlike

You did

During the Vietnam War

Getting a medical exemption.

Just remember

We do vote

And will speak out

For our democratic rights.

In preventing 

Another generation

From experiencing 

The hate and ignorance

Like we have.

Wish

I could say

This is your final warning

But I know better.

As you hide

Behind pseudo science

Backing your claim

Against the trans-community

Enlisting.

A ban

Your military commanders

Have outright rejected.

To my American cousins

I don't envy you

And the harsh decision

Forced upon you.

A ban

Your military commanders

Have outright rejected.

To my American cousins

I don't envy you

And the harsh decision

Forced upon you.

Stay on

But move back

Into the closet.

Or leave the military

And be true

To yourself.

Either way

You lose.

Therisa © 2019  

Author's note:

(1) https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2019/apr/12/transgender-ban-military-trump-take-effect-dont-ask-dont-tell?utm_term=RWRpdG9yaWFsX0d1YXJkaWFuVG9kYXlVUy0xOTA0MTM%3D&utm_source=esp&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=GuardianTodayUS&CMP=GTUS_email

Shall Not Be Forgotten Years (October 15, 2018)

We're nothing

Stepping stones

Used and discarded

Whenever suited.

Past 50 years

Meant nothing.

Tears wept

Callow manner

Trump said:

“It doesn't matter

We won.”

Tossing aside

Our abuse/sexual assaults

Deleted spam emails

From your account.

Show hearing

Confirming Kavanaugh

Truth-secondary importance.

Once more

Enter Dark Ages

Generations to come.

Even if

Only 4 years

Of Trump.

Therisa © 2018

Author's note: Reaction to a report on Trump’s 60 Minutes interview, aired Sunday, October 14, 2018.

The Wilderness Years (July 19 2018)

You talk

About the promised land

Place of milk and honey

Where everyone sits

In the lap of luxury.

And yet

For many people

It's an unattainable dream

Beyond their reach.

Still

They vote

For the dreams

You spin.

Desperately hoping

Things will better

Refusing to believe

Writing on the wall.

World left them

Standing in dust

Without a road map

Or compass

For guidance.

Optimism turns

Blackest depression

Anger mounts

Each passing day

Little change.

Like a false prophet

The people turn to you

Seeking deliverance

In time of darkness.

Willing to accept

Your message of change

Regardless

Of its irrational nature.

Offering quick fixes

To complex questions

You don't have solutions for.

As prices rises
Employees laid off

Left to fend for themselves

You play golf

On the taxpayers’ dime.

Therisa © 2018

Author's note: A poem for Poets United’s midweek motif writing prompt: wilderness.

Loose Cannon (June 12, 2018)

Quick

Duck and cover

Everyone.

The Great Defender

Is spouting off

Again.

Just like Old Faithful

In Yellowstone National Park.

He erupts

On Twitter and Fox News

With a predictable schedule

That one can set

Their clocks to.

Never mind

These rants and tirades

Are filled

With questionable truths

And outright lies.

Leaving everyone

Scratching their heads

Did they hear or read right

Afterwards.

Sure

The Great Defender is living

In a world

That has left him behind

More than 50 years ago.

Where the United States was

A white heterosexual protestant Christian nation

At its zenith of global power

In almost all sectors.

Living

In deep denial

By the end

Of his grandchildren’s lifetime

The U.S. will no longer be

A Caucasian led nation.

Or

The United States is

The world economic engine

As other countries and regions

Embrace this leadership mantel.

Forcing us

To ponder this question:

What do we do

With the Great Defender

For the next two to six years?

Beyond removing

All access to Twitter

And Fox News.

Even

The hardest critic

Will admit

This is torture

To an addict

Like the Great Defender.

And we all know

The United States

Doesn't practice torture

On people

In state custody.

Nudge nudge

Wink wink.

Sigh.

Guess

We'll have to hope

The victory isn't

A Pyrrhic one

When the fighting

Is finally over.

Therisa © 2018

The Trump Game (July 1, 2018)

Gears

Within gears

Always turning

The manipulation grows

Like a true Game Of Thrones

On the international stage.

Reality is stranger

Than a novelist’s fiction

In a fantasy book.

Where landscape changes

On a daily basis

Needing a guide book

Just to understand

The various players

Involved.

On a dime

Long time allies

Have become heels 1

Deliriously booed

For cheap political points.

Tyrants and dictators

Are treated like

Conquering heroes

Coming home.

Gushing over them

Like some teen sport idol

Whose poster hangs

Upon the bedroom wall.

Alas

All can change

In a single heartbeat

Posters are ripped

And torn down.

Once more

The gears engage

Moving in

A new unpredictable motion.

Leaving all guessing

And scratching their heads

At the next move.

Therisa © 2018

Author's note: Am sorry, but I tried to avoid using the current U.S. president’s name in this poem. Alas, I needed a title, and The Circle Game, by Joni Mitchell, wouldn't leave my mind.

1 A slang term from professional wrestling meaning villain.