Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.



Monday, January 19, 2009

I.

I get sick at the sight
of ball gowns layed out
for tomorrow
for the party
for the ceremony
when a man named Barack
puts his darker skinned hand
upon a book and
swears to lead us
I get sick at the sound
of people swooning
and their eyes swimming
in light for the man
they believe will save them
for the man who will
put his darker skinned hand
upon a book and
swear to lead us
into silence
into repression of dissent
he’ll swear to keep us calm
keep us chained tighter
to our seats of slavery
I get sick because
today’s the day to celebrate
the man with the dream
who was shot for
standing up out of his seat
and getting angry
and they’re comparing
and calling Barack
a civil rights victory
but I still hear whips cracking
and it’s still obvious
that this is a lie,
a blindfold for the eyes
of the public
and I get sick.

II.

Martin Luther King had a dream
but I’m living in the nightmare
He had a dream that this nation would rise in equality
but all I see is a staggered society with people on their knees
He had a dream of brotherhood
but I see the table upturned and burning
He had a dream that the state of Mississippi would cease it’s swelter
but I see no oasis, just more states melting under
the heat of injustice
under the heat of the gun which shot Oscar Grant in the back
He had a dream of four little children being judged fairly
but I saw six teenagers torn down in Jena for the color of their skin
Martin Luther King had the dream that our hands would join
despite the pigment we were born with
but my pale white hands are still held up higher by society
and kept out of reach of equality
and I get sick because of it-
living in this nightmare.



(it feels unfinished to me. who wants to finish it for me?)

1 comment:

CASINO*TOWN said...

i think the thing to do would be to address his treatment of protesters on his own soil AKA denver and his use of ultra militarism in that case, or simply...wait...see what happens next. he is clearly a two-faced man, and yr job as both observer and participant is to note the hypocrisies and instigate yr own brand of change to fix them, something that i think you've done a sufficient job of in this poem and elsewhere...