Tag Archives: violence


Today is a day for small chores

Bringing water like some forgotten sky god

For my green prisoners

Next, I vacuum

Stirring the dust and detritus

Harvesting peanut shells and dust bunnies

For memories and lost thoughts

My routines are commonplace

Comforting in their normalcy

Giving me the illusion of some fragile permanence

That might stand against the intransigence of power

Forgetting that state control is as prevalent here

As it ever was in war zones and dictatorships

Where terror slams like bullets into unarmed crowds

And poetry is bloodwritten on pockmarked concrete

By the dying

Who no longer water houseplants

But bleed out their innocence on city streets



David Trudel    © 2013



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She had the Vegas of notions

About what she wanted

So she gambled on random

Got a row of lemons

The house always wins

Now she’s part of it

Chipping away at freedom

Calling hit me, hit me

And she cuts and she cuts

But only on the surface

Vegas is so superficial anyway

There’s not a lot of depth to that place

Except in depression

Or small pockets



David Trudel   ©  2013



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Random Killings

Desperate people inflamed by hate

Ruled by frustrated passion

Resenting all they see

So they grab a gun or maybe three

Take aim at others, randomly

Inflicting pain, inflicting death

Spreading chain reactions

Of deepest misery and vengefulness

And the commentators will wring their hands

And go on to say it’s not the guns

And it sure ain’t us

The hateful bile we offer up is just for fun

So when we say that its time to aim

We don’t really mean it

It’s just a game

But clearly things are going wrong

Hot lead flying in schoolyards

And all to make a specious point

About free speech and hate and fear

Underlined in blood

And drenched in tears


David Trudel  © 2012




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For Ed

Your blood congealed and dried up 38 years ago

My heart’s been bleeding ever since


There are no stains left to mark where you fell

Just a handful of shadowed souls

Who mourn forlornly, evermore

Remembering your meteoric presence

Brilliance of a caustic wit

Depth of your great soul

Cut short

Cut down

In a moment’s violence

Your suffering was brief

Ours continues


My old and unaged friend

I water your grave with my tears

Like you misted your boston ferns

Moistly spreading such care

Freshening each desiccated frond

With love



David Trudel   © 2012



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A Call To Disarm

It’s time to disarm


Violence rocks this world

Tragically, in so many ways

In so many places

Wars of oppression and wars of suppression

Singular violence


Mass murders


It’s time to disarm



Gangbang rapes

Shootings in movie theatres


It’s time to disarm


Police brutality

Gang violence



It’s time to disarm




Acid thrown on faces


It’s time to disarm


Armies running amok

Barbaric as ever

Sanctioned hit squads


It’s time to disarm


Hot lead flying through bedroom walls

Blowing the brains out of sleeping babies

Apartment blocks full of families

Blown up to kill a lone soldier

Assault weapons sold to insane haters

Who riddle the innocent with bullets

Road rage driven angerbombs

Pulling out protection to settle arguments


It’s time to disarm


Violence contains a lot of energy

Negative energy, for sure, but vast

So there’s that law we’ve forgotten

Newton’s third

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction

Which means that the cycle of violence

Is a perpetual motion machine of bullets flying back and forth

Unless we can poke a stick in that wheel

Break free of the tyranny of the gun


It’s time to disarm


Start controlling access to mass murder weapons

End the sale of assault weapons, period.

Impose national and international gun control regulations

Limit access to the psychologically fit


It’s time to disarm


State sponsored terrorism must stop

All nations must reverse their insane military buildups

Dismantle the bombs


It’s time to disarm


Empty the prisons by investing in schools, hospitals and people


It’s time to disarm



David Trudel  ©  2012




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This Line

This line wasn’t drawn yesterday or today

This line goes way back

Straight through my heart

This line is as red as the blood that

Stained Jackie’s tailored suit

In the shadow of the grassy knoll

This line hangs as heavy

As the rope that bore such

Strange and bitter fruit

This line is the scar on Gabby Giffords’ scalp

This line is the tear falling

Down a mother’s cheek

This line is hot with rage and fury

This line was uttered in Ford’s Theatre

As theatrically as ever

This line is the sting of the whip

This line is the manacle that holds you in place

This line is drawn tight

Tight as a bow whose arrow

Will take flight

On a straight line to death

This line underscores the tally

Of the lost

This line spits hot lead


In chaos

This line kills

This line is not a drawing

It’s a pathway to oblivion

And everlasting dark

David Trudel  ©  2012

This is a response to this great poem by Susan Daniels:


That line

if there is
a line between free speech
& treason

between change
& revolution

between assembly
& rioting

it is fine
it is dark
& it is drawn

in blood

the problem is
it takes death

to tell the difference

Susan L. Daniels






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