The Speech Writer Speaks

Behold my stentorian roar

Peroration

In vehement, bellicose

Vituperation

Verbose in its prose

Overdose inclination

Towards mostly morose

Evokes ghosts

Intimation

Past revenants, resonant

In my unhesitant

Unbridled

Diatribe lines’

Leftist sentiment

Only sometimes

Over-confident, arrogant

When my existence itself

Is aberrant

To reverent

Irritants kneeling in

Deference

To an insouciant idol’s

Insistence

They pay its lip service’s

Idle indifference

But mine is a kind

Of unspoken rules broken

A voluble diffidence

Inner-peace woken

To worlds at war waging

Enslavement wage

Graving

New power mad-craving

Stark raving mad tyrants

But pirates still plundering

Rites

Remain silent

The voices

Whose choices

Are foisted

Then hoisted

In banner years’

Foreign fears

As the truth

Disappears

And then from chaos

Disorder erupts

Gushing forth repercussions

Of paint brushes hushed

For too long

The swan song

Has been throngs

Of hope crushed

Til there must

Come the thrust

Of the poet’s sword

Vocal cords

Raised

Like the fist

Of the podium-pounding

Upstage

Of the passive-resistance

To change’s

Parade