Only White Lives Matter

 

I wrote this in response to a dead refugee child on a beach in Europe, and to a bombing in Pakistan. To me, they are a symbol of the larger problem; mainly, that some lives are more valuable than others. It’s so obvious now, I don’t understand how people continue to deny it.

All lives don’t matter. It’s as plain as day.

 

No colors light up

the buildings,

no calls go out

to pray.

No non-stop news

reporting,

no leaders join

hands today.

 

 

 

Only White Lives

matter,

only White Lives

mourned.

To the world, the

White Child is sacred;

to the world, the

brown child ignored.

 

 

 

When will we move

beyond this?

“ALL LIVES MATTER”

rings so hollow,

when White Death

is always tragic,

the death of

brown children ignored.

Profits From Death

profitsfromdeath1

I threw away the flag pins,

tossed the patriotic shirts.

Ditched the yellow ribbons,

the key chains that never worked.

 

 

How easy to be a Patriot,

to support an unjust war

when all one must do is take

a trip to the dollar store.

 

 

No need to make a sacrifice,

no need to think at all.

Ignore the names of the dead

and buy a flag waving doll.

 

Friday Haiku

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Bright, blazing sunset-

Flaming pink against the sky;

my heart pounds in awe.

 


 

Dark, forbidding trees.

Slashes of black against grey,

eerie shapes unfold.


 

A gull in the sky;

flashing streak of grey and white

soaring through the clouds.

 


 

Eagle in the sky-

soaring above the plains, she

inspires my soul.

 

Freedom

I wrote this in 1988, at the age of 20, while watching the birds glide around the Royal Gorge Canyon. This is still a special place for me.

I wish I could

fly as the sleek,

black crow;

to soar up high,

then glide down

below

the rim of a

canyon, so fast

and free;

this is how

I would love

to be!

Real Americans

 

 

What is a real American?

What is it that must

be required?

Is it the color of

your skin?

Is it the faith you proclaim?

Your gender, politics, the

person you love, the place

from where you came?

 

 

 

Who gets the privilege of

being a real American?

Who will pass the test?

The rich, the powerful, those

who preach hate?

Who wave the Swastika and

Cross in parades?

Is this the Final Test we

must take?

 

 

 

If this is the required

test we must take, if

this is what we should be;

I will never be a

Real American.

I’d rather be a

Human Being; a citizen of

the world,

I shall be.

Two River Haiku

The river that runs through my hometown is special to me. It has helped me through some difficult times. Although humans have tried to tame it with levees, dams, and all sorts of artificial means of control, every spring it rips through the man-made constructions, tearing them apart and overstepping it’s boundaries like the wild, free spirit it is. I hope I can be half as free, independent, and strong as the Arkansas River.

 

Arkansas River I

 

Swiftly flowing down,

Mississippi is your goal.

My heart flows with you.

 

 

 

Arkansas River II

 

The river knows me.

It hides my secrets from view;

my friend, my ally, my muse.