A Sonnet to A Sable Poet's Pen

A Sonnet to a Sable Poet’s Pen

(Apropos Disrespected, Suspected, Neglected and Rejected)

I want to write poems

of flowers and birds;

Fragrant poems singing

beautiful words;

Poems praising the ebb and flow

of evening tides

Splashing shores searching

where love abides;

But my pen refuses to ink

such seemingly simplicity.

My pen refuses to ignore

today’s blatant iniquities.

I must write for and to those blinded

by the cataracts of injustice;

Those who suffer deafness from

cancer of abject prejudice—

Immobilized by sclerosis

of uncontrollable apathy:

That coveted placebo that placates

infectious pity.

Yes, I must write wailing words decrying

flowing blood in the street;

Leaving sobbing sad sable mothers

with only dried tears to weep.

This pen of mine must mark our time of vigilance

and what was neglected;

I must write poems of reality—how down the years

our liberty they rejected.