A Freedom Fighter Poem by Dr Ronnie Bai

A Freedom Fighter

Outside for thunder Democracy still calls;
Inside the silent bar he sits still, though,
Gurgling down mouthfuls from the cool beer glass —
Stella Artois commands his heart and soul.

But not long ago it was fast and furious,
When drafting his dream for a brewery
On his homeland of what he’d sip as
Pure and fiery rice wine of democracy.

Mixing Scotch whisky with cloak and dagger,
He toasted as an ancient regal assassin
That might not return once over th’ border
On his sober trip of a spirited mission.

But more sober was the tyrant’s police,
Whose cup of chalice he was bound to become.
Under the table he was knocked with malice;
Soon to their fiery hooch he was to succumb.

Th’ prison had no ears for talking dreamers —
Ev’ry day’s happy hour was endless squeals,
And ev’ry night’s last drink was stench cheers —
Bottoms up met batons of bars tenders.

Now on la Seine amidst the freedom air
The cool glass burns his hands and sears his lips —
On th’ golden hue of the brew he fixes his stare,
Sneering at Joan of Arc and Marcus Brutus.