Silence.
Tick, tick, tick, tick…
Ouch! That hurts!
Tick, tick, tick, tick…
Ring! Ring! Ring!
Hello?
Silence.
Hello? Is there anybody there?
Silence.
Tick, tick, tick, tick…
Ring! Ring! Ring!
I don’t care! I just don’t care, anymore.
Silence.
Tag: struggle
Brothers
I never thought we’d come to this place—
You and me on opposing sides, in a race
Against time, against each other, against freedom.
Never thought I’d be fighting a brother in the kingdom.
Sometimes, I get confused about all the issues.
Hold it now, I need a box of tissues.
Life has taught me to be true to those
Close to me, who’d give me the clothes off their back.
Maybe if we try to make this moment count,
Dig in, and give it all we’ve got.
Can you see the light coming at you now?
Don’t leave me here to just fester and rot!
You mean a lot to me, I wish you could
Accept that simple truth as a fact.
Let’s do the right thing, like eating your favorite food.
It feels good, even to be caught in the act.
Everything we learned yesterday doesn’t come
To mean a thing without love.
Every heart we’ve broke just feels like some
Kind of putting our head in a stove.
But you and me, we’ve been around the block.
We know the rules, and the pain, there’s no going back.
It’s not too late to correct yourself.
Just put those lies on the back shelf.
Hear me say, it’s not the same thing
As going on the first date.
Going steady makes me irate.
Take off like a big spring
That’s all I got, so take it or leave it!
Aunt Jemima Controversy Explained
The new name for Aunt Jemima is Pearl Milling Company. They are starting to switch everything over now, but the old label is still on some products for sale. The picture of the black woman character will be retired.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aunt_Jemima?wprov=sfti1
The brand basically exploited the blackface Mammy character of the motherly house slave that was popular in vaudeville. Not the best symbol. Have you ever read the autobiography of Malcolm X? Or seen the Spike Lee movie starring Denzel Washington? It’s really about a subconscious denigration of black women linked to their social position in slavery and later as housekeepers. White people used their power to institutionalize their social, economic and sexual position in society at the loss of black women. It may not offend most people because it’s so ingrained in our culture for black people, and especially black women, to be uneducated servants. It is a long history and there are still parts of the underbelly of our society in which it still rings true.
The history serves as an excuse and strength of argument and social attraction of black social and political groups like the Nation of Islam, which was in its heyday in the 1960s under Malcolm X. You should see the movie. It’s very entertaining, not to mention educating. The book is great too, written with Alex Haley, who wrote Roots. The controversy is not about who buys the product. It’s about the fact that a certain part of the population has been exploited and abused and a negative stereotype was used at their expense. It’s just wrong to use a name and likeness of a figure like “Aunt Jemima” to make money. It’s a part of the past that is shameful to all races and should be discouraged and put away to only learn from.
Life is Relative
And it’s not just an alienation from language, or communication. It’s rejection of the individual, lack of acceptance, judgment. Words are empty when trying to express the grief and sorrow that results from this situation, a hopeless condition.
Lack of connection. No community. No friends. No religion. No god. Just a meaningless existence with no purpose, no focus, no hope. Everything social is either scripted or random. There is nothing real out there, or in here.
And there is only the chance to connect based on a common existence or perceived state of loneliness, ennui, loss of meaning, relativity. Everything depends on everything else. Nothing is certain. Life is one absurd action, thought or event after another.
Far Away
There are no words
That come to mind,
Seeing things pass by—
Another day is gone.
My sweet is far away.
I hear her voice,
But she won’t stay.
She has other things to do today.
Many moons will rise and fall
Before she comes back to me.
Many lonely days will pass
Until her face I see.
When she returns,
She will find me
Exceedingly happy,
Joyful, thankfully.
Changing Gears
Sometimes there are reasons
For ways I think and feel,
And sometimes it just hits me
From out of nowhere.
I can’t plan a day ahead
Without being surprised
By something that happens
That changes my focus.
Being bipolar means that
Sometimes I am at the mercy
Of my mood. But that doesn’t mean
I’m helpless. I just have to
Constantly be aware
Of everything that affects me,
Inside and out.
It is a challenge,
But it’s possible.
Gone
Stilled.
The breath and the blood,
Slowing to a stop.
Where is the smile?
The laugh?
Or even the cry?
Seconds tick by…
No movement.
No voice calling.
What happened
To the thrill
Of living life
To its fullest?
What of risk,
Rides and rough-housing?
What of playing games,
Teasing and pranks?
What of kisses,
Hugs, and holding hands?
Life.
Gone!
Starting Over
Leave your heart
At the door,
Slammed shut,
With a thud.
Cover your eyes.
I don’t want you to see
How thin I’ve become,
Wasting away,
In loneliness.
And how I’ve hurt
On this special day.
How I wanted to say
Something cute,
Something caring,
Something happy;
But all that came out was,
“That’s nice.”
All I cared about
Was hiding my fear,
Not starting a fight again,
Over something stupid.
I want to start over.
I want to be closer.
I want to embrace your
Wilting body.
Let’s go down
To the river,
To drown our sin,
And come up again,
And bask in the sun.
Let’s hold each other again,
Like we once did,
When God smiled on us,
And we had not
A care in the world!
Spirals
Drifting through despair,
The emptiness tingles.
My soul quivers
At the tickling breeze
Of meandering routine,
The repetition of work,
And the high-pitched whistling
Of idle conversation.
The circular motion
Of a life without purpose,
A mind without focus,
And feet without direction,
All come together for an
Absurd account of a life lived
Without meaning.
Freedom comes with its own
Heavy chains,
And a weight that is a
Painful, woe-some
Burden to bare.
A Reflection on Juneteenth
Crimes unimaginable
Sins unfathomable
Wrongs not righted
With an apology,
A soft word,
Or the stroke of a pen.
Pain to the deepest parts
Of the heart and soul,
The very fiber of one’s being,
A wound that doesn’t heal,
But rather cuts deeper
With every smile,
Every handshake,
On every pay day,
Every trip to the grocery store,
Every night at mealtime,
When they look at their children,
When they look at ours.
Privilege continues
Despite the lip service,
Despite the promises,
Amidst the meager gifts,
The dregs of easy charity
From the tatters of a bursting purse,
The guilt trip laid on thick
To the middle class and even
The working poor.
Those that lack for food,
Clothing or shelter,
Living barely day to day,
Not knowing where one’s next
Meal will come from.
And at the church the preacher
Says try harder, pray more,
Save your dollars
So you can send your little ones
To a good college,
Make them study,
Keep them out of trouble,
Tell them you love them,
That you’re proud of them
For that report card.
What do you say
When the white kid
Calls them the n-word?
What do you say
When you don’t have a job
Because you refused
To kiss your supervisor’s butt
When he would talk to you
Like you were nothin’,
Just a cog in his machine,
A disposable, replaceable,
Optional, neglectable,
Insultable, disrespected,
Used, abused, tossed out
To the street
Like so much garbage,
Black man?
Stumbling along the sidewalk 