You talk about love As though you own it… As if it’s a commodity A thing, to be bought and sold But if love is for sale Is there anything that isn’t?   You talk about respect, honor, dignity, and justice They are your catchwords. But whom do you honor? Who do you respect? Only the ones who look like you, and more importantly, Talk like you do   What about the dignity of those left to fend for themselves In the aftermath of hurricanes and floods, And what about justice for those who find their homeland destroyed and then occupied… While you talk about democracy and freedom   You talk about fighting a “War on Terror,” as if I Don’t know who the true terrorists are… 9/11 didn’t happen in a day And we both know who the masterminds actually  are…   You talk about “Weapons of Mass Destruction” And all I can think about is Hiroshima and Nagasaki Truth is, your talk Is a Weapon of Mass Deception   So, go ahead… Keep talking… Keep telling me to “Remain alert and have a safe day,”   I am already alert to the tactics you use To perpetuate fear… The truth is I am afraid.. But not of the one Who sits across from me… Who dresses differently; Who speaks a different language; Whose skin color complements mine; No, they are my sister and my brother, Though you talk about them as “other” You even talk about race As if it exists… And you talk about racism As if it doesn’t.   Go ahead, Keep talking! Keep telling me: “If you see something, say something”   I see something… I see through your rhetoric, And I’m saying something about it… I am sure, however, that if what I’m saying, Begins to resonate and permeate, Then you’ll talk about me, As you’ve talked about Michael, Mel, and now, Even Rosie, Who was courageous enough to say she doesn’t believe your 9/11 story…   Insinuation, innuendo, and hearsay are now your Methods of assassination; They have replaced the loaded gun you used to Place in the hands of the alleged sole assassin. Now, you use words, because you know the power they have. And power is your God – not the other way around,   Although your talk could lead some to believe otherwise, Like when you talk about God, Faith, and Country, While you deny others their right to believe as they choose, and you build walls to keep out those whose ancestors inhabited this land long before your grandmother and grandfather came here on a boat…   So go ahead, Keep talking, Because the more you talk, The more I remember that “It’s the squeaky wheel that gets the oil” And we both know that it’s the oil you’re after…   And as you keep talking, I also remember that, “It’s the empty barrel that makes the most noise.” And your words are empty… And your talk is cheap… And anyway, I’m not buying what you’re selling.          Justine M. Pepicelli © March 23, 2007 [Home] [About] [Contact Us] [Poetry] [My Poetry] [Featured Poem] [User Poems] [Three Poems] [Events] [Guidelines] [Legal]