"Heartbeats," A Poetry Post

Mr. President,
this is Mrs. America,
married to certain principles,
standing against hysteria,
woken from anesthesia,
woozy but I don't care I got
one chance to make it clear to ya
Mr., I'm not scared of ya.

No,
I'm not an innocent,
did some things I regret and I
said some things that I shouldn't and
haven't lived it down yet but I
know when I'm in the red
versus when I am in the black
and while I was over here sleeping, Sir
you've been setting me back.

You've been
toying with the economy
profiting from your office and
spending my tax dollars like
I cover your losses and
cutting out social programs while
padding pockets of bosses and
dishonoring people who
ask you about the costs.

You're
flaunting your phallic status like
I was a poor Geisha
you bought from a sex trader
and lowering women's status
and proud to be foul about it and
came out your mouth about it
and paid your porn stars and pussies
with money out of my wallet.

You're
celebrating amendments that
you've never seen played and you're
cutting deals with some nations that
never should have been made and you're
shaking hands with constituents
out on the world stage that have
never given me love and will
always take it away and you
thinking that I will stay.

And running these violent rallies where
Hispanics, Blacks and Women are
treated like common alley cats
you know I don't believe in that
kicking out the Hondurans and
terrorizing the Dreamers and
trying to shut the borders when
I'm surrounded by water and
crossing it when I oughtta...
I'm one of the world's daughters...
The world... it can afford us.

You're
making me watch in shame as you
make a fool of Melania
I'm sorry, my first lady
at least I know how to honor her
wherever you found her and
whatever she was then I am
telling you she belongs to me, Mr.
I feel offended.

Listen,
you've had your bath and I'm
sure it was a great laugh since you've
publicly talked trash about
anybody who asked if you
understood what it meant to
makes moves inside of my house
and if you couldn't humiliate,
you simply ran 'em out.

But I'm saying, I'm not playing, Sir.
This is me standing breathing
and proving to you and others that
lo... my heart's beating and
just because I've been drugged and
just because I've been cheated... don't blink
Mrs. America
I will not be defeated.

I've seen it.
I'm not at war with outsiders,
I got spies and
most of them are recruited and kept
right under your eyes and I'm
trying now to be patient and
trying to play it cool but
I promise, I'm feeling warm and I'm
ready to bend some rules since you
underfunding the schools and you
killing bank regulations and
spewing garbage online to my people
and other nations and
going light on your squad while
giving poor people the hammer and
insulting the press while
using incorrect grammar.

Trying to change a tax code and
not releasing your taxes and
promising me new industry...
keeping your foreign backers.

This is me, praying,
I'm saying, I'm not playing,
I'm younger than most nations but
volatile in my ways and I've
sat quietly still to give
you a chance to repent
and instead of you seeking mercy
you keep on bringing me sin and
this is me...

Heart beating
I know that I've been away
I was comatose, I must say and
divided up in a way that
did not allow me to hear
from the people I love the most.

I see it.
I meant the best but I failed you.
It's not over.

Dear
Mr. President,
peace is a fickle thing and it's me
Mrs. America
brave, angry and free and you're
saying that closing borders is
keeping the threats out but me...
you know my name by now...
I know what that's about.

You're really locking me in and then
blocking out world perspectives and
saturating my timeline with
well planned misdirectives and
yesterday I was woozy and
yesterday I was down but I'm saying,
I'm not playing...
get up or step down.

I'm saying, I'm not playing.
Get up or step down.

I'm saying, I'm not playing.
Get up or step down.

I'm saying, I'm not playing.
Get up or step down.

I'm saying, I'm not playing.
Get up or step down.

-T. D. James-Moss