A.H. Scott: Honor’s Retreat


Honor’s Retreat


Poetry by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2018


Even after bald-face lies about Rep. Fredericka Wilson and musing about Dreamers being lazy asses; John Kelly still receives reverence in being given the hallowed presence of constantly being called General Kelly. For me, it seems the journalists calling him that are always giving a false salute of his past glory. As for the present, he is just the CIVILIAN White House Chief of Staff John Kelly. No higher or lower than any other person who has held that position.And, with that Mr. John Kelly has fallen at ease in Honor’s Retreat. And, for those who say, that Kelly is the adult in the room to bring discipline to the White House; I say that is a joke.

Oh, don’t get me started on plans for that military parade, cuz’ I surely don’t want to throw too much shade.




Honor’s retreat

Oh, yeah

It can be beat

Honor whistles past Arlington

Reputation relinquished for false prophet of patriotism’s need

Proclaiming protégé of being a man of integrity

Even as dirty deeds of the past have been teased in the spotlight

Porter’s supporter feigns ignorance of who this secretary truly is

But, what do you expect when wrong is stroked as right

We need the Honor Whisperer to show us the light

Too damn bad that dishonor has become wed to this plight

Yet, Honor retreats once again

Make me a parade with pomp and pride

And, of course make damn sure my enormous missile glistens for the satellites above to see

Honor’s retreat all the way it’s gotta be

What was normal before has gone far, far away

Verbal sparring and belittling of those who are beneath the platinum plateau

From lying about Representative Wilson to yakkin’ about lazy ass Dreamers, the smearing of civility grows

Is Honor in the house of white anymore?

Retreated and reloaded for the March of the Righteous to be led

General you were before

Now, just Mr. Kelly is who ya’ are

Not so different from ya’ boss

Honor’s retreat is propriety’s loss

Duty has become doody, as the Tantrum Toddler sits in his high chair

Common sense has become like mercury, slick to the grasp of a stillness of serenity

Once upon a perch of what was saluted with solemnity, as faltered to shallow

Hallow transforms to hollow, as the tightrope snaps – and Earth is left without a net

Honor’s retreat is decorum’s defeat


About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by A. H. Scott, go herehttp://tonywardstudio.com/blog/h-scott-follow-ruble-road/


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