Stephen Jarrell Williams

Save Our City



A cloud-cover this morning

After last night’s stars pinpointing the sky

Vivid in their distance and majesty


Sirens echoing all around us

An easy-to-hear pattern of marching boots

Coming closer


Windowpanes beginning to vibrate

Our sanctuary becoming as the rest of the world

Torturous in the waiting


Many choose to ignore the sleeping giant

His yawn and grimacing rising from the tomb of our fathers

For the settling of scores


Smoke seeping under our doors

Frantically gathering wet rags

Placing them over our mouths and noses to breathe


Someone screaming

Buildings shaking

All stunned before the grand falling


Running out into the streets

Where they wait

Gathering us up into army trucks


The dark green of metal and canvas

Long lines snaking out to detention camps

For our sins


Another world of the old world ways

The giant gnashing his teeth

To the altar of our doom.





The Pace of the World



The pace

of the world



Is too great

and too scatter-brained

to try to sort

or keep up with



we all do a little

to help


And maybe

we’ll slow it down



That we all don’t die

a miserable death.








The good in us


Ebbing away

Soon out of our reach


We could have stopped it

Years ago when we knew how


Now our minds


Having too much

Sharing not enough


The butchers coming

Sharpening their blades


Many of us will flee

Many will fight

Too fat to win

Too pampered to last.


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