In Minneapolis, a poet’s name becomes a prayer.
Renee Good, a mother, lost to an ICE agent’s glare.
Days later, another federal spark lights the sky,
Crowds pour out, asking who, and asking why.
A judge draws a line, and Justice pushes back,
Grand jury knocks on the Governor’s and Mayor’s tracks.
Soldiers stand by up north, the Guard waits at home,
A Day of Truth and Freedom says don’t work, don’t roam.
The vice president’s coming, talk of old powers fades—
Keep drums steady as the city holds the stage.
Sources:
Flags on ice and streets on fire,
All our wires hum with choir.
Markets shake and voices rise,
Truth and freedom in our eyes—
Hold the line through the storm,
We are more than headlines, we are warm.
Across the ice, a machine paints a flag in a dream,
He says the island should be ours or there’s a tariffed stream.
At Davos, he ties it to a prize he never held,
Europe answers: respect the sovereignty you’ve belled.
Retaliation gathers in a counter-marching band,
Brussels reaches for a new anti-coercion hand.
Sources:
Flags on ice and streets on fire,
All our wires hum with choir.
Markets shake and voices rise,
Truth and freedom in our eyes—
Hold the line through the storm,
We are more than headlines, we are warm.
Back home the tickers buckle, worst since autumn’s sigh,
Fear climbs the ladder while the brightest names slide by.
Gold glows, silver sings, safe harbors start to swell,
A Danish fund steps back from Treasurys as they fell.
A mountain of value slips into a restless sea—
Some call it Selling America, some call it a plea.
Sources:
He lifts a glass, vows to levy on the French vine,
When Macron says no to his Board of Peace design.
Screens flash quiet texts, Greenland questioned bare,
Putin, Milei, Carney take their places there.
Invites drift to Ankara and Brasília, too,
Critics say it sidelines the UN’s view.
A draft whispers power beyond Gaza’s door—
Is peace a table, or a private corridor?
Sources:
Flags on ice and streets on fire,
All our wires hum with choir.
Markets shake and voices rise,
Truth and freedom in our eyes—
Hold the line through the storm,
We are more than headlines, we are warm.
In Davos, the mountain halls call for dialogue’s art,
A record crowd of suits and states tries to chart a start.
He brings a team and vows to make home costs bend,
Bar the biggest landlords from buying up the end.
Have federal hands buy mortgages to ease the road,
But the ice-bound island steals the headline load.
Spain’s leader turns back after rails come undone,
Mozambique’s president stays where the floods run.
Sources:
In marble rooms, a chair waits for a name,
Treasury says the shortlist’s set for the game.
Hassett, Warsh, Waller, Rieder in the light,
Powell scolded for not cutting fast on the night.
Spring draws near; markets hold their breath—
Will patience lead, or chase the wind instead?
Sources:
Flags on ice and streets on fire,
All our wires hum with choir.
Markets shake and voices rise,
Truth and freedom in our eyes—
Hold the line through the storm,
We are more than headlines, we are warm.
Sing it loud: no work, no school, no shopping today,
Let the gas clear out, let the boardrooms make way.
Let Greenland be Greenland, let poets live long,
Let justice walk forward and carry this song.
Bang the drum, ring the iron bell—
Tell the traders, the generals, the ones who sell:
We choose each other over tariffs and fear,
Day of Truth and Freedom is already here.
