Sitting beneath liberty’s idol,
Wreath-bearing, toga adorned,
Sits a mortal, memory’s child—
Bald and bewildered—
The breeze whisps around wild,
And why should it be mild
As the bones of the once living,
Lie in number-marked graves,
Dead—all dead—
So a granite statue
Named “Genius Liberty”
Can freely stand.
Yet, in this land,
Toupee totalitarianism holds sway.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
Originally published on tristanrobertlange.com, August 31, 2025.
Tittu
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: August 31st, 2025 07:53
- Comment from author about the poem: For context, written in Soldier’s National Cemetery. Gettysburg, PA. Photo taken and modified by author.
- Category: Sociopolitical
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, Bella Shepard
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Comments5
The pendulum of freedom swings in the history of mankind from too free, if one can be, to enslaved. Too free means freely stepping on others toes while enslaved meaning an owner stepping on yours. If people would learn sensitivity and respect for others there would be no need for such a swing. People are willing to sell their freedom for the promise of security and that is not what freedom is about. A fine write my friend
Beautifully put, Soren. Sensitivity and respect are what we’ve never quite learned…your words mirror the exact tension I was zeroing in on in writing this. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️ Thank you, always my friend, for your time, thoughts and love. Much appreciated!
Always my pleasure my friend for whatever value my poor thoughts have
Good write T. Popeye holds sway in....... we can't say! lol.
And how. He holds sway...how? Let me tell you = Swoon! Therefore Sway = Swoon. There's a new logic equation. Don't see the logic...? 😳🙀
S W O O O O O O N.
The logic goes a little like:
Everyone swoons IFF (if and only if)
Anyone says/shows what Popeye holds in sway
ELSE this is a swoon safe space.
I wonder how much liberty there is in death
Dearest poet, philosopher, and friend, that is the very chilling question, isn't it? Liberty in death feels like freedom and finality staring each other down…a tension that haunts and there is no easy, simple, or even satisfactory answer. Powerful line, my friend...it’s less a question than a reckoning and you and I are seeing that reckoning the same way. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
And a very philosophical line yourself... I reckon if philosophy was still a profession I could do it just fine
Indeed, you would be! 🤣 Of course, you could always become 🥷 Professor of Philosophy! #JustSaying!
Very true...that may be the only thing you CAN do with a philosophy degree!
..... and they died for that...
Your context clarifies it all, Tristan.
Dave, exactly…and they died for that. I know you and I see very eye-to-eye on this. You’re right...the weight is in how rarely war has ever been truly necessary. Most of the time it’s power posturing, not freedom. Your words land like an echo of the ground itself, my friend…haunting truth. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
And the economic interests of influential arms manufacturers among others.
Take care, Tristan.
Wait, are you trying to tell me capitalism comes to play in all of this? No...I just won't...🙄 🤣🥸
Yup...you are spot on! That friggin' C-word I tell you. It creeps up everytime, dunnit? LOL!
Funny you should mention that word - used it just now in a quick scribble and post.
Near held me spellbound .. and I love how you tweaked the accompanying image and made it all yours .. 🐦⬛🐦⬛🐦⬛🐈⬛🖤😎👍
Neville, I love that you found it spellbound. As for the image, thank you! I took the photo at Gettysburg on August 27, the same day and near the same spot I wrote the poem. Bringing them together made it all the more personal. 🐦⬛🖤📸🙏 So glad you enjoyed!
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