Tag Archives: Rights

Who is Wesley?

Part 2 to Wesley’s Words

The face was circled
to near perfection
in faded red
on black and white
with the words
‘what is a life’
written pain
stak
ing
ly
small along the white
edge
neither mingling
meandering nor merging
with the photo paper’s
story
but filling Mason’s head
driving his hands
veined with hours
of plays, throws
and connections
to waver over glass
trace the words
to perfection
and wonder
what is a life…
…what is a life?

The circled
young boy
stared out from
hundreds
other faces
eyes seeing places
and dreams of
the future
so obvious
was the obliviousness
of this
young man
as if his dreams
were so far out
there was no
light
no future
reflecting back.
then the words
what is a life…
…what is a life?
came slamming back

Coach was old
his words made no sense
nonsense
figure it out
figure what out?!
why, how
when?
This is ridiculous!
Mason didn’t need
this…

What is a life?

The picture hastily
shoved to precariously
to haphazardly
tossed to the
edge
to the edge…
crashing smashing
tumbling down
from the bedside
to the ground
in pieces
frame and bits
lay more than just
a photo graph
a softer edge
lay unearthed
from tomb of wood
and glass.

LOCAL BOY
DEAD.
Five teens where
questioned in the
death of a local boy
this evening.
A call tipped off police
to patrol the area
off of 5th and Grand.
A scream
A scuffle
A muffled
brawl? perhaps.
The line went dead.
the operator said
The line went dead.
The five men
remain in custody.
Names withheld
due to the sensi-
tivity
of crime
and time
but sources suspect…
a sixth.

Mason skipped the rest.
Local boy, dead.
his age
ripped from a page
of yesterday
lived on the other
side of tracks
with
a nobody no letter no jacket
no money no future
no life
no life cuz
he’s dead.
Found with a pink barrette
clutched in his hand
and F@66%7
scrawled on his back
in indelible ink
to obviously sink more meaning
as his attackers
tattooed their
judgement into
his black and
blue
skin.

what is a life?

An article 30 days later
stapled
and worn
confirmed a sinking
suspicion
The 5 were part of the
Local High 6.
but no proof
no
ev-i-dence
no recollection
or defection
of witnesses
no sense of right
or wrong
no candle light vigil
no memento or
mournful sigil to mark
the young life passing
by.
Even this passage
was relegated in
subterranean
cache
just above the lottery
numbers
page 8
where this hate
ful incident
and
obstruction of
a justice-less life
for
Wesley
was left
to be forgotten
as if it would be
forgotten
and
it was…
save by one.

and
Mason kept on
tracing the words
in his head

What is a life?
What is a life… 
worth.

911 TRANSCRIPT – May 7th, 1969
Police Operator 2472
What’s your emergency?

{{Whispers}}

5th and Grand
a scuffle, fight, a boy down.

What is the location?

5th and GRAND!

{{typing}}

5th and G.R.A.N.D?

YES!

{{TYPING}}

What’s your name?

My name? I.. um… Mar…
Damnit man
You have to send
someone?
like now!

{{typing}}

Can I have you name son?

{{more typing}}

Sir,  Let me get your …
Sir are you there?……………
sir…….
hello?……

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I want to shed a poetic light on abuse, in-equality, and bullying.  It is one thing I can do in my every day life to help make a difference.  You can too, by sharing a piece here that speaks to you to someone that may need to hear it.  Or if nothing else, visit one of the organizations I support like Over My Shoulder FoundationThe L-ProjectDiversity Role Models, Trevor Project, and Give a Damn Campaign.

Reach out today and make a difference in the life of someone who can’t. You will find the weight of love, the burden of friendship, and the plight of forgiveness is more joyful than the lightness of forget, the sweetness of popular, or the treasure of perfection.

To my younger self

You are

exactly who you should be

not an ounce grown

in the wrong

direction.

The seed of your

talents

grow beautifuly

unique

not a smidge

out of line or

question.

Your character is

witfully designed

trustfully divine

not a sinuew of

soul is placed

in the trash bin

or going

to hell because

love is not a sin

you’re not ugly

or unlikable

unworthy or

un-anything,

don’t listen to them

their snide remarks

their better than’s

because in the end

you turn out just fine

you

live a life

they said you would

not dare

do

so

when they cast your

lots beneath the stands

while you step up

soloed from the band

when they laugh at

clothes handed down

or the silver shining

in that smile

when they poke

prod and manipulate

throw, hit, and

simply hate

you

don’t you look in the mirror

and do

the same thing

because

You are

exactly who you should be

not an ounce grown

in the

wrong direction.

I read a poem about truth

I read a poem about truth
by e.e. and it spoke to me
in a way only an angel can
whisper warnings
in only a way messengers
of fate zipsingerly weave
tales and spill knowledge
onto the floor I am standing on.
So truth is here?
Truth is here.
If I walked backwards
Truth is here.
If I sidestepped and
moved sideways
truth is here.
he said it
I believe it
follow no path
make no stretch of
imagination
just believe
in the mullings of madness
that there is either no truth
at all
or
truth is
just
here__ .
and here_______ .

and

here_______________ .

Intrepid Feet

Intrepid feet step largely out of the ordinary into new territory expecting nothing but the blessings of the path laid before and knowing even when the gales blow, the lightening strikes, and the cougar stalks, the path is still a blessing and must be made – for no change every came of those who stayed inside with doors locked and windows drawn. No change ever came from fear – only intrepid feet stepping out of the ordinary… into extraordinary spaces.

::speak peace and intrepid on::

Full of holes

here I stand

full of holes

so the sun shines through

full of holes so the truth

runs out

full of holes so the

rain of my tears will

fountain down the inside.

still I stand

at the precipice of deceit

the implications of your need

your negative nation

of who you think I am

and who you think I should be

should love,

should look like…

because I am not you

but the Gods

forbid

you

are never me.

Get up!

There is no better time than now

to affect the affliction of our times

with the audacity of living

free.

There is no better time

to take of the masks

and be.

There is not better time

no better day

or night

to get up in the face of boot souls

in the face of fist throws

in the face of invisible

indivisibly caging

unilatterally scathing

hatred

and breath deeply

the audiable sounds

of our future victories

the defended youth

the battered and bruised….

becaues if we don’t

get up

we will all

fall down.

 

so GET UP!

Love after war

War.
Guns blaze.
fire scorching
the heat of democracy
and the desires of
freedom desperate
souls.
battles
wage.
in streets
behind cascading stones
while drones
fly over head
searching
with electronic eyes
for an enemy.
Innocence
loses
its way
as the young get younger
pick up swords
instead of plays and
I have to wonder
can there ever be
love after war.
Will the season
of our discontent
making life to suffer
unrelent
-ing horrors of
our mistakes
ever be redeemed
in the waking
forgetfulness
of morning?
Will the
blood on our hands
the impression of death
stamped into the sand
of our march
ever fade?

Will rich men in
high towers
ever stop laying
waste
to poor men
with elongating hours
will the
other reverse course
and demand discourse?
can we ever meet in the middle
can we
ever
find
love after war.

Every day the news
paper dreams in smoke
lay plain the drama of the day
Men dragged from homes
Women stripped and shorn
Children’s hands bound
with the weapons of
war
de constructing truth
de constructing lives
and
all I want to do is
hold my hand to my head
close my eyes
reading no more
because
I’m not so sure
its possible to
have
love after war.

Taste the Rainbow – thoughts on a shooting

In the minds of many there are only two
there is no shade
no definition of hue
white to be hated
black to be hated
…. no rainbow
no brilliant red
no shade of blu
no confident green
or boldly orange and yellow
there are no exceptions
only rule.
I get all the anger
I myself am enraged
ENRAGED…. at the suffering
of innocence and the
blood spilled every day.
but blaming an other
won’t find justice this day.
Evil is done
it exists in every shade, shape
and shadow
and the irony is
Good can wear
a similar face.
so… how do we tell
when there is evil about?
I can tell you what it is not…

It’s not a bag of skittles
it is not the hat, hood or hair
its not the jeans, the shirt
or the shoes that they wear
no height, not the weight
not the shadow or shade…
No
it is the gun in the hands
of men who wield only fear
and unfortunately for us all
they come in every shade
just as the skittles that fell to the ground
and silenced you that day.

:: May we remember this and fight injustices for all people of all color, all creed, all age, all gender… who we are is not the fabric God sewed us in, nor the place the Divine placed us on this earth, but the character we have while we are here – may we remind people who wield only fear that we will not scummed to their vision of the world but that we will stand together to fight atrocities wherever they may be::