January 25, Robert Burns Day (1)

 

Ten more bodies lying dead,

Welcomed to their gory bed.

Can’t we get it through our head,

Guns don’t keep us free?

 

See the people who were killed,

Blood congealed and faces stilled,

Happy holiday was chilled.

Why?  No mystery.

 

Guns are idols in our land,

Worshipped by a motley band.

Reason has to make a stand

Or more misery.

 

Founding Fathers wrote a verse,

Our Supreme Court made it worse,

Turned words to a bloody curse,

And to savagery.

 

Constitution: words of man,

How this bloody curse began,

Mostly, in our right wing clan.

Few would disagree.

 

Guns: too many, why we die,

Other, lesser reasons why,

Even fixed, won’t nullify

Firearm tyranny.

 

Evidence is crystal clear;

Most mass shootings happen here.

While we hold these idols dear,

Death claims victory.

 

• Robert Burns was born on January 25, 1759. His poetry is still widely known today and is particularly celebrated in Scotland.  Today’s poem is in the meter and rhyme scheme of his famous, “Scots, wha hae wi Wallace bled,” about the speech that Robert the Bruce gave to his army before the battle of Bannockburn, June 23-24, 1314, in which the Scots defeated the army of Edward II, the English king.  My poem is about another, ongoing, bloody battle going on in the USA today.