Face the Monster
When we marched,
Through slimy mud past riot-shielded cops in Alexander
(This is the ghetto.)
While children peered wild-eyed from dark windows,
For some of us these were re-runs of earlier apartheid-burdened days.
But, then, it was defiant resolution that drove our hearts and braced our feet.
Now, sadness at betrayal sat sadly on our hearts.
Our shouted slogans hung heavy over us in grimy air.
We winced at familiar oft-repeated lies
There are people for whom poetry exists almost exclusively as an aid to social change, to political discourse– not as some sort of didacticism – but as a discussion, a wake up call (consciousness raising), a way of approaching some truth, finding some meaning, encouraging resolution. A horrific war photo, a terrorist act, a homeless person outside the grocery, a friend in…
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I HAVE BEEN INVITED BY ROBIN BALDWIN AT WORDS FOR LIFE, RBALDWIN0204.WORDPRESS.COM. TO PARTICIPATE IN A THREE DAY QUOTE CHALLENGE. I WILL BE POSTING A QUOTE ABOUT DEMOCRACY FOR THE NEXT THREE DAYS. IT JUST SEEMED RIGHT GIVEN WE ARE CELEBRATING THE BIRTH OF OUR NATION THIS HOLIDAY WEEKEND.
My last quote is from George M.Cohan an immigrant who became a Yankee Doodle Dandy.
You’re a grand old flag,
You’re a high-flying flag,
And forever in peace may you wave.
You’re the emblem of the land I love,
The home of the free and the brave.
Ev’ry heart beats true
‘Neath the Red, White and Blue,[N 4]
Where there’s never a boast or brag.
But should auld acquaintance be forgot,[N 5]
Keep your eye on the grand old flag.
Happy Birthday fellow citizens,
This week, the very good blog “Vulpes Libris” invites poetry lovers to read their bloggers’ choices.
I invite you to make one more step: why would you not choose a poem you particularly love and share it with us?
Let’s make a week of poetry that would be the bloggers and readers’ poetry with comments and interractions.
From my window, I can see acacias beginning to put on their white blossoms and smell their sweet scent.They will give us their summer perfumed honey in a few months.
We all have memories like these mauve, golden, pink, white.clusters of flowers that became scent or honey or more memories. Let them all come forward as poems we loved, still love, and how they live in our lives.
Share a poem with us and let you know why you love it.