The words went
The Land OF The Free
But apparently that
Did not mean you or me.
The words went
All men created equal.
I think they will want
To change that in the sequel.

The words went
And So God Created Man.
Maybe the Causasians
Saw another way it ran.
It seems the white people
Thought it meant only them.
The rest of the colors?
Their chances were slim.

Those not Christian
Were seen as the enemy.
Change the name to animals
That’s what the Christians did see.
Not all the Christians, true
For some heeded the words of Christ;
Those with wealth and money
They armed themselves for a heist.

They turned their Jesus
Into a trademark commodity
And declared all other ideas
Either blasphemy or an oddity.
They bought airtime and then
Bribed some weak-kneed politicians;
Made laws against the rest
Even if we buried them in petitions.

They put up tents and temples
Like golden bejeweled mansions
And proclaimed as holy
Each and every gilded stanchion.
They bought the best robes
Highly expensive rings and shoes
And claimed they were helping
The poor they chose to abuse.

We are meant to revere them
And their gaudy choice of dressing
And humbly hit our knees
Then pule and grovel for their blessing.
Because they didn’t mean
For us to take that free stuff far.
After all, they are rich
We’re nothing but what what we are.

I remember so much
But how much of it was true.
I remember being much bigger
And the house I lived in was too.
I remember how deep the voices
Of the adults living around me.
I recall them as basso profundo,
Not high, nasal and twangy.

I remember people said things
Like “God bless her” a whole lot
But these days, they still say it
But do they mean it, I think not.
I remember singing at church
“Jesus loves the little children.”
They never once had me sing
“But not if they are little heathens!”

I remember while in school
“All men are created equal”.
They should have told me instead,
“Only if they are white people
And then only if they are Christian
From the same church we go to
On Christmas and Easter, kid.”
Because that was our religion.

I remember being told repeatedly
“Do unto others, as they do unto you.”
Later I found out they didn’t mean it.
For gay people it wasn’t true.
Then it was do unto others whatever,
As long as they stay in their place.
They must not kiss or hold hands
Because being gay is a disgrace.

I remember being taught that God
Created everything on this earth
But somehow that teaching missed
Those born non-white or gay at birth.
I remember some nice sounding things
Being said with everyone watching,
But hatred and bigotry like a virus
Seemed to be much more catching.

See the Nigra boy statue
On a White front lawn
It is all that is left now
The Old South is gone.
It’s beloved in those towns
With proper church steeples
From the good old days
When people owned people.

It is a symbol of when
Blacks stayed in at night
And all public offices
Were held by the Whites.
When all human rights
Applied to only Caucasians,
And not to Blacks, Hispanics,
American Indians or Asians.

Those were the days when
It was easy to quickly see
Which were the good people
And which ones were guilty.
In those much better times
We didn’t stoop to harrangue them.
If they shot off their mouths
We would  simply hang them.

Two hundred years of tradition
Was rudely taken away
No matter how we fought it
No matter what we had to say.
Those were the best times
And we liked it that way.
And our friendly Congressmen
Should make that way today.

The little Lawn Jockey remains
Almost by himself to carry on
Now that the massas and mistresses
In the Sainted South are gone.
He signifies a better time
Like Stephen Foster songs:
We never found owning darkies
So very evil or all that wrong.

You call me alarmist
Because I say what I have heard.
You call me socialist
As if it were a ***** word.
You call me communist
Like this is nineteen fifty two.
You make an epithet
Of anyone who contradicts you.

You call me coward
Because I hate war so much.
You call people ******
If men should hug or touch.
You call people terrorists
If they don't worship your way.
You seem to hate the poor
Wish they would just go away.

You have a list of names
You use instead of using specifics.
You have a list of behaviors
You consider to be extra terrific
Like making fun of races
And calling starving people losers.
Make laws against cannabis
While you are a bunch of boozers.

You use Christianity
Like membership in the Rotary.
Won't take your credentials
To be verified by a legal notary.
You hide your profits
And brag about your successes
And become homicidal
If you get anything but yesses.

It's a sick world you sell
With your hate filled speeches.
Surely this is not what
Your spiritual leader teaches.
There is so much disdain
And even evil in what you do.
Let us all hope and pray
Our kids don't turn out like you.

An inconvenient truth
Can spawn a most convenient lie.
But far too often it seems
The truth will crawl off and die
While the lie lives on
To expand and grow new legs
And covers up the facts
That the fiction sadly begs.

It's a horrible fact today
That people look for excuses
To stay the fools they are
And find more convenient uses
For stories they either made up
Or have come to believe;
Mythological legends
That education can't seem to relieve.

A casual glance through history
Is all we really would ever need
To put the lie to death, but
This kind of fool does not read.
The saddest thing to see is
A bigot has no use for truth
When it makes them give up lies
They have depended on since youth.

But the basic thing in this
Is that someone spoiled this person
And made them into something
A step or two below a decent human
Because every religion has
Words just like the old golden rule.
You wouldn't think that
They could be made into an evil tool.

Why aren't you ashamed
Of yourself, your friends
Of anyone around you
That chooses to pretend
That some people are
Somehow lesser beings?
How can you all sleep
With that kind of feeling?

Did somebody close to you
Get inside of your mind
And coach you every day
To be deaf mute and blind
To the beauty of people
And all the good they do
If they were created
A bit different than you?

Did some crazy crook
On some show on teevee
Tell you it will be fine
If you hate them and me
Because we demand
The right to just be?
Who has mistrained you
To despise equality?

If the people around you
Hear such talk and approve
Why did you not decide
To get up and move?
Instead you have chosen
To point fingers and blame
People who are innocent
Why aren't you ashamed?

But as the sun sets ironically over the straightaway bridge towards 30-40
And we all gather under our respective flags
beside the big silver pole of the library by the Laundromat,
American,
Dominican,
Democratic,
Demonic,
More gather under the flag of rainbows than one could think
And though some hide,
Although most wear a mask,
We are in greater numbers than you realize.
Please, respect us as we respect you.
But it's okay if you don't.
We'll forgive you.
Because we follow Christianity closer to the letter
than most that dub themselves as Christian,
Wearing mixed fabric,
Eating bacon,
But bacon is good and nobody blames you for not wearing all-cotton,
because that gets itchy.
But we forgive you.
In Jesus' name, we forgive you
For your ignorance,
For your fear.
We forgive you.
We aren't bad people.
We are just the same as the rest of you.
We go to church.
We don't eat rats,
Unless you count the slop in a McDonalds chicken nugget...
We simply have another love.
We simply want to be like you.
Please don't hate us,
Please don't attack us,
We haven't done a thing to you.
But we forgive you.
We just want to love as you do.
We just want to be loved as thy neighbor.
We forgive your fears, your feelings, your farce-follies and your false feelings...
Because we love you; we forgive you.

With the printer's art Congress declares to reward
All citizens who watch all citizens of a certain sort
For they are said to be in the shadows of our land
Plotting terror of the most terrible sort,
To maim our babies’ precious limbs,
To spur our fear of the Other’s ambitious will.

So I have you, don’t you see,
Because your piety is suspicious to me.
Deceptively, maliciously I say you act
And call for the reward the law says you’re worth.
Oh yes, you will do. Money in the till.
Praise the law and my virtuous will.

With the charges pressed by me,
Have no doubt to trail you will go.
How proud I will be to see you stand
Before your peers sitting there in fear.
Stranger, admit I have you on the run.
Pay my price, or face my ambiguous will.



© 2016