I am ALL 12 Angry Men.
I am ALL 12 angry men.
I am a truthful man,
Furious at the evil hate and fear
Of strong women, by flaccid, weak men;
Shriveled souls, hell-bent on complete control,
To compensate for un-faced failures, buried deep inside dark holes.
I am a Caucasian man,
Enraged at so many vile, bigoted White people,
Ignorance etched into every pore,
Proud of their prejudices; poisoned to the core.
I am the descendant of Italians,
Disgusted by the pig-headedness of many brothers
Whose names end in vowels, but think with their bowels,
Forgetting when our people were the “others.”
I am a Jew by choice,
Refusing to mute my voice,
When Christians, I once was, and knew,
Campaign to erase all living, and dead, Jews.
Nor do I support Theocratic Israeli Jews,
Who think they have nothing to lose,
By resorting to that same Rule by Hate,
To justify a Jewish State, as if that breaks the chain.
I am a grandfather of girls,
Determined to repair and improve their worlds,
So they can live in peace and calm,
Free from all violence or any harm.
I am a man closing in on death,
Who’ll fight until my dying breath,
For freedom to love, and live and think,
That could be gone in but a blink
If we shut our eyes to injustice and pain,
Our legacy, forever stained.
I am a student of the law,
Passionate about fairness and playing by the rules,
With zero tolerance for arrogant fools,
Who demand order, for all but their own ghouls.
I am an angry man, demanding dignity for all,
Detesting acts so cruel and mean and small,
Protesting “jokes” and winks, to purposely berate,
Or anything from anyone which masquerades the hate.
I am a father and a lover,
Fierce in the protection of my loves,
And of the other, who, unsheltered, or without embrace,
Have no less need to be seen, or feel a caring eye upon their face.
I am the son of immigrants, and of imagination,
Of dreams, of values, of hope, and indignation
That incantations about equality and fairness are goals, not actual,
That until achieved, are far, far, less than satisfactual.
I am an ethical human child, whose present is my future;
Who, despite my age, will not be mild in my rage for what is right,
Nor sit silently through the dreadful, deepening night,
Knowing that beauty and life and love depend upon our light.