David X Novak
  • Home
  • About
  • Poetry
  • Plays
  • Prose
  • Books
  • News
  • Contact

Returning to the “Great” Ole Days

5/27/2017

 
“In this great contest of Right against Wrong, of Liberty against Slavery, who are the wicked, if they be not those, who, like vultures and vampyres, are gorging themselves with human blood? if they be not the plunderers of the poor, the spoilers of the defenceless, the traffickers in 'slaves and the souls of men?' Who are the cowards, if not those who shrink from manly argumentation, the light of truth, the concussion of mind, and a fair field? if not those whose prowess, stimulated by whiskey potations, or the spirit of murder, grows rampant as the darkness of night approaches; whose shouts and yells are savage and fiend-like; who furiously exclaim, 'Down with free discussion! down with the liberty of the press! down with the right of petition! down with constitutional law!'–who rifle mail-bags, throw types and printing-presses into the river, burn public halls dedicated to 'Virtue, Liberty and Independence' and assassinate the defenders of inalienable human rights?”
In this great contest which today
    Continues, who indeed— 
Who are the just? The wicked they
    Proclaim from hill and dale their greed.

“Free market!” and “Money is speech!”
    They holler far and wide;
“A corporate entity” (they teach)
    “Holds virtue undenied.”

Today the heavy manacles
    The slave was called to wear— 
Those gilded chains, still terror else— 
    Once sold on public square

Have been supplanted rather by
    Fetters invisible,
Exigencies held by a lie
    That men are scared to tell.

The contest has continued: we
    Today find the usurper
Ensconced in halls of justice—he
    Of platitudes the chirper

Calls for enforcement of the laws
    Which hold the pauper down,
And raising capital, because
    He worships its renown.

By an abomination men
    Curtail the hope of others,
To be condemned, again, again,
    Before disaster smothers.

They preach a value: “Money talks!”
    And “Virtue trickles down,”
Conceptions at which honor balks
    But honor stands alone

Without a friend in the cabal
    That ushers men with speed
Toward slavery renewed—their call
    Proclaims from hill and dale their greed.

Comments are closed.
    Picture

    News?

    A new poem is always news to the poet.
    ​Or whatever.

    Archives

    April 2020
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    January 2017
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed