I haven’t written a wholly original poem in several years. Most of my poetry has been revisions or edits of work I did six or seven years ago. Over that time, I’ve maybe written two or three new poems. None of them compelling enough to continue crafting.
Lately, I’ve found myself again feeling the pull to poetry. I think this is in no small part due to the vibrant cultural upheaval that has been going on these passed few years.
This poem is an attempt to voice my disgust and shame. It has to do with the response so many are having to the Paris attacks, which is to blame Syrian refugees. This is a poem to those people who stand against welcoming refugees.
I don’t know if this is a good poem. I think it gets a more than a bit melodramatic if not purple. I need to keep working it over. I’m rusty and even when I was at the height of my writing prowse, I was an esoteric and poor poet.