The Pendulum’s Rogue “Tock.”

"The pendulum has wildly swung, taking freedoms our founders had won." A poem for a time such as this.

There is a machine that has largely held a balance to our way of being. Like a clock meticulously crafted, the moving parts were carefully drafted.

Since the start, its steady pendulum beat like a heart. Checks and balances would help it keep time. But the people weren’t aware of a silent crime.

Cogs and gears were voted in through the years. But counterfeit pieces then stole these vital “leases.”

The “masquerauders” were given prizes and appointed others in disguises.    Legacy media followed suit, flexing muscles like a brute.

Now the pendulum has wildly swung, taking freedoms our founders had won. Carefully tended springs are now sprung.                                                                  

As the clock began to quake, the “crown jewels” were exposed in its wake. Each one: made of paste. But by now the press was on the take.                       

The truth did not matter; purchased silence allowed our balance to shatter.

Emperors were bought and sold across the globe, young and old. Our votes: Now strangled at the throat.

They tipped the balance, crossed the line. We did not respond with malice, but are still doing the time.

Peaceful citizens named enemies of state, now rotting in wait. Their captors say, “Let them eat cake.”

Farmers now stripped of land as "royal" toes dip in sand. Elderly without heat and medications as treasurers fly off on luxury vacations.

Mothers are broken, and children are stolen: political wallets were fattened and swollen. They refuse to expose the list of predators for fear of exposing political creditors.

Administrations conspiring with global thugs, adding toxins to food and drugs. Something we can’t unsee: A worldwide selling of death and disease.

Global decrees “assure” there is no need for alarm. So brave souls risk everything to warn against these “unseen” harms.

Our voices are stolen as we cry out for the fallen. Subjected to censors, mothers, widows, doctors: the new “offenders.” Humanitarians are publicly shamed, “dissidents” are what we are now named.

With the balance of things- left to kissing of rings, integrity remains shattered. The truth- widely scattered.

We recall these tactics from stories children know, recognizing evil lurking from below.

We the people need not fear, For the broken and outspoken, our time is near. Our numbers are greater: History shows we prevail sooner than later.

Without freedom of the press, we found ourselves in this “mechanical” mess. So we must learn to be “printers” as warned by our constitutional “minters.”

Roll up your sleeves, write your appointees, send your words without reprieve. Write and speak, finding the bold and the meek.

Don’t discourage. This is how the imposters are purged.

Your voices are the tools to replace the counterfeit jewels. Glass and paste allowed this disgrace. So, before our opportunity ceases, it is up to us to dismantle the wayward pieces. They remain inside the clock, powering the pendulum’s rogue “tock.”

Heather Hudson 2023