2020 was the cruelest year breeding
ice-cold storms from pain
and hatred long kept hidden
away from the sun’s light.
Something caged finally came out.
Kyrie Eleison
Kyrie Eleison
January 2021
The monster came
to our doorstep.
Kyrie Eleison
It was born on a day in 1999
At a school in Chicago.
When we said,
“they’ve committed suicide.
Surely, this can’t happen again.
What do you know?
What do you remember?
I know only this.
I will give up
the second
amendment when
they take it from my cold
my cold dead fingers.
The monster isn’t dead.
We learned this at
a school in 2012
It grew arms.
At a nightclub, it grew feet.
Fed by our words.
“Of course, we condemn
the actions of the shooter.
And pray for the families of
the forty-nine dead.”
Kyrie Eleison
As we whisper or maybe shout.
But they are not our kind.
They shouldn’t have gone there.
Lead the good life and
the Lord will protect you.
And of course, we could
do nothing, just talk.
Restricting guns does no good.
Only criminals will have them.
In fact, we need
to arm the teachers
and form the militia.
I’ll give up the second
when they pry it from
my cold, cold
dead fingers.
Let’s pray to our god and condemn
the young who cry at our doorstep.
Entitled children should go back
to where they belong.
Let us pray to our god
ask for justice for him
to punish the sinners among us.
Our thoughts and prayers
are with the victims.
We’ll root out the enemy
and chase him away.
Kyrie Eleison
Once we met the enemy.
Who was he?
We met the enemy
and who was he again?
I do not know. I do not remember.
Now we hold drills
and five-year-olds
hide in closets.
We need that second
and the militia.
But do not let the trans
serve in the military.
Don’t ask don’t tell.
It’s all an illness
if not a sin.
Don’t question a soldier
who likes to kill.
So long as he’s straight.
Don’t question
the cop who kneels
On another’s neck.
It’s not ours, after all.
Don’t do the crime then.
In 2021 it came back.
Kyrie Eleison
It broke the doors to our palace.
This monster that had gone to
a club for the wicked
Now brought us righteous
to our knees.
We cried out Oh Lord, Oh Lord
Why have you forsaken us?
Kyrie Eleison
We did not see for we could not.
We put cotton in our ears and blinded
ourselves like Oedipus.
So as to not hear the monster
call us his savior.
So we would not see our likenesses
In the monster’s blood-red eyes.
Dies irae, dies illa
Quando Judex est venturus
The monster sleeps.
We stayed our hand again.
And we,
we found too late when
the Judge came
it was not for those in some
den of a nightclub nor
for those we call sinners.
He came for us.
Dies irae, dies illa
Paula Pivko grew up in Palatka, Florida. She started writing poetry at the age of thirteen and never stopped. She has been published in the Florida Writer’s Magazine; Vulture and Doves, Social Issues for our Times; and Teen Angst. Recently she started doing short stories which have been published on Reedsy. Paula also was a finalist in the 2020 RPLA awards for poetry from the Florida Writer’s Association. She lives in Port Saint Lucie, Fl with her two sons and works as an orthotist-prosthetist. It was through her career and her friends that she learned what strength truly is.
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