Vox Populi
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Linda Belans: The mirror doesn’t lie
Do I look fat
in this outrage?
puffed up?
Do my hips look wide
when I stand astride
injustice?
Tell me
Do I look hot
in this fury,
bloated?
Do my cheeks look red
when I count the dead,
the slaughtered?
Tell them
Our babies lay
In corrupted hands
Here at home
In Arab lands
Crusted blood
Curdled yells
Children kneel
Death toll knells
The naked emperor
In orange veneer
His brownshirt tools
Reek yellow fear
Empty suits
Face-masked feds
A parent shrouds
In a vacant bed
See them.
I’m red-hot
in my outrage
on fire.
Our children slain
politicians deign
to notice.
I’m loose-lipped
in my fury
stripped bare.
Won’t stand aside
through this genocide
can you
Hear me
~~~~
Copyright 2025 Linda Belans
Linda Belans is a dancer, poet, author, educator, and former journalist. She resets her 80-year-old spirit and refuels her activism each day with #morningexorcise.
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Rage—uncontainable—felt by us all!
Linda, we are grateful for the Art of your dissent!
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Thank you Sean. I wish I didn’t have to write this poem.
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Singing my life with her words…
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Thank you.
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To get the language of rage to rhyme is a mighty talent. Amen is right.
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It really is a mighty poem
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Thank you so much for posting my poem on your fearless site!
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Thank you so much for embracing my poem and posting it on your glorious site and fearless site.
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Thank you so much!
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Amen!
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Amen!
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I hope they hear you.
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Thank you for reading my poem and responding.
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