From the platform it’s dark wooden planks
Weathered by the footsteps of those who have taken these very steps
To stand where I stand
I look out and look up. Not straight up for that would be too much
But to the horizon above the people
Boisterous, a nervous energy runs through the crowd
They wait for a performance. A spectacle.
Lay out your soul for us to judge. We want your blood.
I take a deep breath, as though my last.
The announcer speaks, laying out my accomplishments or is it my sins
I block out the words and prepare.
“ … And he shall be hanged by the neck until dead.”
The noose goes over my head. I’ve done my best
The trap falls open
I lay my head to the side
And breathe my last breath
A president looks over the country
To the west the fires of an orange glow like the setting sun
Blaze in glory a final testament to a dead piece of paper
Cold in his heart, ice in his veins, he calls their names
Oorah! Let them march. The boots echo on the streets of stars
The news anchor speaks into a microphone
He blocks out the words.
“ … And the Constitution …”
The noose hangs above his head. He did his worst.
The trap fell open
We laid our heads to the side
‘... the right of the people
To peaceably assemble …’
This is from a prompt from dVerse: What I’d like us to do is to write a poem that conjures a view (whether from our travels or everyday life, whether from desire or experience) that is colored by the emotion of the moment. I could not help but see the actions taken towards the protest in Los Angeles as a view that is very much colored by the emotion of the moment. Also I can’t help but think that moment up on the gallows the view would not be colored by the emotion of the moment; but not necessarily in the way one would think. The two, in my mind, marry well together. I hope you enjoyed.
Like what you’ve read? Subscribe! Get notices of even more things you’ll like.
The Author Stew webpage - Stories & Poems 
The noose is a great symbol of the country choking.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The thing is does the country have the courage and gumption to take it’s head out of the noose before it’s too late? Thank you for the read!
LikeLike
You’re welcome. I have no answers right now.
LikeLike
Wow! Great drama in each of these contrasting yet related scenes. I can’t help feeling there is some metaphorical truth in the first one, for many – and perhaps that will come to be so, in time, for the second scenario also. Troubled times!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you for the read. Troubled times but there is hope, always hope.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“Lay out your soul for us to judge. We want your blood.” For me, this sentiment of the crowd is the lynch pin (pardon the pun) holding both scenes together. In wanting “blood” are we committing justice or injustice? And what is the price? The soul of the country, the Constitution. I love the way you set up the scenes, the perspectives eventually colliding to make us wonder whose neck is really in the noose. Provocatively assembled, Stew, the crowds and the spectacle.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much for your thoughts. And I’ve yet to need to pardon a pun. 😁 I agree justice or injustice can often depend on the view on has and often it depends on whether you are the one receiving, delivering, benefiting or being harmed. Whose neck is really in the noose indeed?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am a bit confused about whether the president is the one being hung or calling out the names of those that he is causing to be hung. It is clear that either way, the constitution is dead–either through these or past actions..
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for the read and comment. 🙏🏾 I think the answer can depend on your view which I think adds to the theme of the poem. Originally I wrote it thinking of them as separate but I like the variety that can be seen depending on how you view it.
LikeLike