An Ode to ‘No Kings’ Royalism
as if restless
a crown prince
impatient
to catch a crown
falling from heaven
the darkest miracle
it lands upright
on his crooked head
Not accidentally
Nor dynastically
Not benevolently
transactionally
the American way
stealth with wealth
gangsterism as needed
wars here and there
billionaires ready
on call day or night
upending history
law morality
an untold part
of the national story
so far
not for long
a white Christian Confederacy
reborn evangelically
in a goldleaf palace
to torment what remains
a thorn in the soul
of the nation
too long dormant
its luck run amok
while the nightmare lasts
why not bury
the American Revolution
the Declaration Independence
as charred embers
and be done
with betrayals
it is time
it is time for this
maybe too late
if yet once more
fortunate
restore the worst
renounce the best
in ceremonies
of erotic malevolence
on remote islands
keep the pomp
hide the circumstance
at gala state dinners
honoring the criminal class
bathed for dinner
in dirty water
before being dressed
by a No Kings valet
seeking bread and circuses
as never before
to blur the sunset glare
of broken promises
cascades of lies
hiding unspeakable
abuse wherever
young girls caught
yet twinned to a demonic urge
to ascend a golden throne
to repeat and repeat
these lyric words
l’état est moi
guests welcome
to bow and scrape
allowed to pet
the royal hounds
we have our first king
as yet uncrowned
already bejeweled
raging against those
more virtuous
the homeless fugitives
of market ethics
silencing songbirds
embers of hate
on moonlit nights
wildfires of love
spread to the castle
white ashes remain
welcome a zombie royalty
of a dying kingdom
of a decadent king
legacies of fake pageantry
now survives as memory
of skeletons of residues
this is our country
Now hosting kings
ascend
imported thrones
the recurring dream
that keeps threatening
to become real
the final crime
stealth and wealth
beneath a golden dome
as royal than
a Disney World joy ride
No need for coronations
or dynastic entitlements
in the MAGA world
enough to glow
in the pale dusk
cast by reigning
broligarchs
occupying once free cities
with ICE pepper spray
swag and swagger
stiff salutes
sly smiles of Arab sheiks
farewell to those nightmares
of freedom and equality
diversity equity inclusion
remembering forgetting
it is about time
once proud citizens
bend stiff knees
becoming the America of our forefathers
no longer thieves of native American land
no longer high minded slaveholding America
the old America is reborn
the sun no longer rises
over deserts of the spirit
darkness prevails
glimmers of light
here and there
signposts of hope
awaiting cremations
of evil before
the next dusk
awaiting the next dawn
new episodes of hope
as America struggles
with devouring ghosts
of past of present
while some of us
shout venceremos
trapped in echo chambers
OF LOVE AND STRUGGLE
Richard Falk
Santa Barbara, California and Yalikavak, Turkey (2025-26)
Global Justice in the 21st Century 
Forgetting 2019: A Poem
31 Dec[Prefatory Note: At this age, having exhausted prose options, I indulge myself during holidays, by sharing poems that seek also your indulgence. I searched 2019 forsome glimmers of good news, and felt stymied. Of course, here, there, everywhere there were glorious private exceptions, yet hovering over the public marketplaces ofthe world I cringe beneath menacing storm clouds and below chaos and misery, and catastrophes waiting to happen. It is this spirit that I looked back on 2019, and yet reject despair, and pledge to fight for what I believe in 2020 with the conviction that it can happen, and of course should happen.]
Forgetting 2019
asphalt rain
darkens green fields
eco-extinction
flares Amazon skies
fake leaders slithering
toward real dangers
hither and yon
seek safe havens
gated nations
hiding from truth
screaming ‘no’
migrants fleeing despair
pleading ‘please’
hiding from evils
Aung San Suu Kyi
defending genocide
this fallen Nobelist
broadcasting abroad
her deadly message
two centuries ago
Walt Whitman
arrived in our midst
singing aloud
bewilderingly
of America’s future
later lost to predators
seizing their loot
robbing the land
turning dreams
to wilting flowers
our grief becomes
a betrayed destiny
tainted at birth
natives driven
off their sacred land
of holy innocence
the trusted voice
of Toni Morrison
is gone not lost
if we listen
if we listen
if we listen
all not yet all
lost futureless
nested eggs contain
our only hope
of what may yet come
of what to renounce
let’s start with gold
then learn not to hate
keep love joy truth
if we listen
if we listen
if we listen
Richard Falk
Santa Barbara, CA
December 31, 2019
Tags: 2019, America, Forgetting 2019, Poem, Walt Whitman