Poem: WHITE House

Throughout this nation's history, White America has struggled to come to grips with its Black population. Our Revolutionary Era focuses on the slaveholders of the South, and how the Declaration of Independence and Constitution had to soften the blow for the southern states in order to keep the Union together. The Missouri Compromise, the Compromise of 1850 and finally the Civil War were all about the North-South divide over slavery and Black oppression. Into the 1950's and 1960's, the racial conflict went on, reaching a crescendo perhaps with the Civil Rights Movement of that time.

Always, the theme has been the same: The North was more progressive and the South filled with hatred. But the only difference between the two regions was style. The South was violent and "in your face." The North was much more subtle. Northerners were "pro-Black," but only if "they (Blacks) stayed in their own neighborhoods" and "knew their place."

Nothing changes. The South and "Heartland" of this country still hold to open hostility with regards to people of color. To many progressives in "Blue" states though, "those people" are, well, still "those people" when they try to reach for prizes deemed more than seems comfortable. Reaching for anything to justify and rationalize the fear, college theses, distant relatives' religious beliefs, a middle name, a preacher, and twisted statements become items of righteous indignation in ways that would be laughed at if the skin had less pigmentation.

This is not about telling you for whom you should vote (although the companion piece does so), but the reasons I keep hearing from too many people regarding their choices don't appear to be about substantive issues in a great many cases, but sound like right wing, FOX Noise concepts that fill me with sadness for how far we still have to go as a nation.

WHITE House

Frightened by what we fear ever knowing
Blindly to hide behind ignorance flowing
Pretend we’re enlightened ‘long as kept at a distance
If he wants any power he will meet with resistance
Cling to the rumors whether false or illusion
Buy all the nonsense if it feeds the delusion
Excuses are easy as they mask what’s in mind
Can’t enlighten a person who by fear is defined

If the image was lighter and the name less unique
Or if we opened our minds and we acted less weak
If we stepped outside smallness to remove its embrace
If it was more about issues and not about race

But it is easy to wallow in mindless portrayal
To sink to the depths of the darkest detail
No matter veracity as we hold to absurd
When the color goes black then all logic gets blurred

Copyright SGW 2008


Please read this poem's companion piece here.

Poem: Whirl

Whirl

Upon reflection
Thoughts run circles around me
And I am dizzy

Copyright SGW 2008

For the prompt at One Single Impression: Reflecting

It Turned Blue?

Ok, I am admittedly a Guinness man, but if you need the label on your beer bottle to turn blue for you to know it is ready to drink, well then you are just stupid. That has got to be the dumbest gimmick ever!

Poem: And Frida

See Frida first. This poem is based on my viewing of the Frida Exhibit in Philadelphia in February 2008.

And Frida

As brushes bleed onto canvas
I see what I see as me
Not as you might see me
For of that, I give no quarter
So I paint and I am
Eyebrows connecting and far too full
Darkened moustache crawls along my upper lip
Ugly
For that is what I am inside
Bitter, pained, heartached
That you now can see what I feel
And what I feel, too

Copyright SGW 2008

Poem: Blanket

Blanket

To lie in the sun
On the first day of springtime;
A reward of peace

Copyright SGW 2008

For the prompt at One Single Impression: Blanket

Poem: Oasis

Oasis

Lips are a waste land
Longing for tender droplets
Of one gentle kiss

Copyright SGW 2008

For the prompt at One Single Impression: Desert

Racism from people who should know better

I can deal with people who are openly hateful, racist and small-minded. What this election season has taught me, though, is how far we still have to go as a nation. When progressive and highly educated white folks send me E Mails of fear about Michelle Obama's college thesis or Barack Obama's hatred of whites or his being a secret Muslim, I feel a deep sense of pain and sorrow.

I never fully appreciated how many intelligent white people are afraid of blacks.

Poem: Altered

Altered

Said my goodbyes to the words in my head
The rhymes and the reasons long since are dead
Shut out the symphony that played requiem song
Notes that were beating to a man who has gone
Torn down the barricades that blotted the course
Put out to pasture the wounded-leg horse

Banished the victim that sat in the dark
Watched as the wreckage boarded boats to embark
The suicide mission left a corpse of the soul
Bit on the bullet that ate at the hole
As the lyrics are written on the tomb of demise
All the old pieces are broken down lies
Pretend that the missing are remembered in time
They’ve given their speeches and fallen in line

Quiet excursions clear the mind for re-birth
Perspective yields promise of a widening girth
Fed from the blessings at fortitude’s table
Found myself hungry and found myself able

Copyright SGW 2008

My thoughts exactly

Bob Schieffer (CBS newsman):

I watched the ABC debate the other night when the question came up, again, about why Senator Obama doesn't wear a flag pin in his lapel.

Since no one asked me, here's my thought on all that.

I think it is a nice thing if people want to wear a flag on their lapel.

But I believe it more important to keep the flag behind our lapel; in our hearts.

I feel the same way about wearing my religion on my sleeve; it fits better for me on the inside.

When I go to see our local baseball team, I do wear my Washington Nationals baseball cap. But am I less a fan if I don't wear it to work?

The truth is I have been known to wear a red, white and blue, stars and stripes tie on the Fourth of July. Am I less patriotic when I trade it for my Santa Claus tie at Christmas?

Patriotism is no more about signs or pins than religion is about reminding others how pious we think we are.

No, the proof in these puddings is not the signs we wear but how we act.

Wouldn't that also be a better way to judge our presidential candidates than by the jewelry they wear?

Poem: Poetry's Rainbow

Poetry’s Rainbow

When darkness arrives
Bright colors are discovered
In poetic verse

Copyright SGW 2008

For the prompt at One Single Impression: Color.

A Little Game We Can All Play

Ok, something for you to do before you run to lock your windows, bolt your door and hide under the bed. I have a 71 year old guy who tried to use a child in a sexual performance, a 26 year old stalker and a 36 year old second degree robber in my neighborhood. Yay for me!

Colds and Cats

Is it possible to catch a cold from a cat, or vice versa? We have both been sneezing all weekend.

Poem: Creation

Creation

In completed lines
A poem is granted life
Of glorified form

Copyright SGW 2008

For the prompt at One Single Impression: Glory

Where can I get this drug?!

I stole this pic from John.

Poem: Another Cinquain

And one more ...

Another Cinquain

Man
Kind, decent
Seeking, hoping, dreaming
With a heartfelt pen
Poet

Copyright SGW 2008