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"mlk" poems
In 1963 Mahalia prodded the good reverend... “tell them about the dream Martin” transfixed on a yonder time he recounted prophecies of a near future from a mountaintop he foretold a history of a people returned again to gardens of paradise thriving in friendly democratic soils overflowing with a colorful biodiversity governed and nurtured with a vibrant sunshine of divine justice welcoming all weary sojourners... from the pinnacle of a Birmingham jail cell Martin burst the bars with the clarion peel of a golden trumpet proclaiming the gospel of liberation to the wardens of unholy gulags “free yourselves” the horn emblazoned in streaking lightning across the sky cowed by prophetic truths of righteousness, shamed by lies the pride of arrogance bespeaks to placate the intransigence of dominion, we prayed the the walls of racism, bigotry, prejudice would tumble down as Martin lit the Battle of Jericho today our country’s profit driven gulags overflow with people of color as justice lingers on death row begging for a plea bargain of a life sentence in solitary confinement... from the ****** Sunday Bridge in Selma, Martin offered a prayer for peace, rebuking the dogs of war admonishing the tenders of blood thirsty machines to beat the gears of war into pruning hooks and plowshares advocates of peace hope to steer the plow across the battlefields of acrimony to sow rich seeds of reconciliation, planting new gardens where the rich yields of peace will be consumed by all God's children yet these gardens remain unplanted, untended and defiled by the machinery of war that churns churns, churns... Martin last dream occurred on a balcony in Memphis witnessing to the divinity of those considered untouchable after a hard days work collecting a city’s refuse he insisted all labor was worthy of dignity and the economic justice of a fair wage Martin looked squarely into the eye of the gun sights of those who thought differently he never blinked, he dreamed Martin formed his last testament to an angry nation yearning for the reconciliation of stability and peace, unmoved that it’s violence, exploitation and bigotry only stoke bonfires of acrimony and division, condemning the reprobate principality to the bleakness of a smoldering discontent and continued generations of recurring nightmares… Martin's dream continues in awakened hearts sojourning on Music Selection: Mahalia Jackson Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho MLK Day 2014 Oakland
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Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
Martin Dreamed (WIP)
In 1963 Mahalia prodded the good reverend... “tell them about the dream Martin” transfixed on a yonder time he recounted prophecies of a near future from a mountaintop he foretold a history of a people returned again to gardens of paradise thriving in friendly democratic soils overflowing with a colorful biodiversity governed and nurtured with a vibrant sunshine of divine justice welcoming all weary sojourners... from the pinnacle of a Birmingham jail cell Martin burst the bars with the clarion peel of a golden trumpet proclaiming the gospel of liberation to the wardens of unholy gulags “free yourselves” the horn emblazoned in streaking lightning across the sky cowed by prophetic truths of righteousness, shamed by lies the pride of arrogance bespeaks to placate the intransigence of dominion, we prayed the the walls of racism, bigotry, prejudice would tumble down as Martin lit the Battle of Jericho today our country’s profit driven gulags overflow with people of color as justice lingers on death row begging for a plea bargain of a life sentence in solitary confinement... from the ****** Sunday Bridge in Selma, Martin offered a prayer for peace, rebuking the dogs of war admonishing the tenders of blood thirsty machines to beat the gears of war into pruning hooks and plowshares advocates of peace hope to steer the plow across the battlefields of acrimony to sow rich seeds of reconciliation, planting new gardens where the rich yields of peace will be consumed by all God's children yet these gardens remain unplanted, untended and defiled by the machinery of war that churns churns, churns... Martin last dream occurred on a balcony in Memphis witnessing to the divinity of those considered untouchable after a hard days work collecting a city’s refuse he insisted all labor was worthy of dignity and the economic justice of a fair wage Martin looked squarely into the eye of the gun sights of those who thought differently he never blinked, he dreamed Martin formed his last testament to an angry nation yearning for the reconciliation of stability and peace, unmoved that it’s violence, exploitation and bigotry only stoke bonfires of acrimony and division, condemning the reprobate principality to the bleakness of a smoldering discontent and continued generations of recurring nightmares… Martin's dream continues in awakened hearts sojourning on Music Selection: Mahalia Jackson Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho MLK Day 2014 Oakland
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138
Ok, I didn't want to do this but there's rules that you must know Etiquette to be followed A line that you must toe Listen very closely now I think you all should try it The things that you will now learn About a protest and a riot Firstly, have a purpose Just random shouting, that's persay If you do not have a topic Then all the new folks go away Throwing bricks at coppers Breaking windows on the street Is this a sign of protest Or is it idiots in heat No signage, and no speakers Just random yelling for a cause This isn't a good protest Just breaking random laws A protest has a purpose It presents a point of view A riot is an ugly thing Which one is right for you MLK could run a protest Make a point and get things done All without a mob forcing A cop to use his gun The rules really are simple Keep the young ones all at home For people in glass houses Should really not throw stones A peaceful resolution From a protest is the goal But a riot is just aimless It puts the city in a hole Victims of a riot Are not the ones who are to blame They're just owners of the business' Who get caught up in the game Next time that you protest Protest rioting instead It will turn out for the better And nobody will end up dead
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Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
Protest or Riot
The Beatles - I Am The Walrus (Freaky Rare Version) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIXEUcrUCtI Strawberry Fields Forever http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9r4mJ3aEhHo Magical Mystery Tour http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqb_fJd-GVs We Can Work It Out http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g--Vlij1X1Y MLK's Last Speech http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aL4FOvIf7G8 The Fool On The Hill http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDtK7xUIDxk How Long? Not Long! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAYITODNvlM Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I Have Been To The Mountaintop http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nL5vJKXzOrI Sgt Peppers Lonely Heart Club Band http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xj2bmQ4P4cM
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Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 12:24 PM UTC
Freaky Fields Magical Work Last Fool Not Been Lonely
You see My skin My face My size My hair My legs You judge by My color My cleft lip My larger than life style My single leg You single me out You spread rumors That I steal That I'm ugly That I eat 6 meals a day That I'm pathetic You judge me by my appearance MLK had a dream A dream that his four children Would not be judged by the color of their skin But the content of their character That dream hasn't been lived I am labeled I am judged He gets arrested She kills herself She's anorexic He. He writes this poem He brings a voice to this world He says you don't want to be judged As much as you judge You don't want to face the end of that stick It is laced with poisons He is still here Talk to me if you need it
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Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 9:40 PM UTC
Judged
I am never not surprised, when someone else has the courage to look me in my eyes, to tell me bald-faced lies, that say I am too dramatized as a white girl trying to equalize and see the world before me rise to say we're not satisfied to say with honesty we despise a government who seems to tyrannize its citizens into fearing they be deprived of food, water, and electricity. So they have to believe in the guise. That we are a nation paralyzed. By lies. I am just a twenty two year old, Caucasian female addicted to the idea I can help you see we will prevail. Our nation teeters on the brink. Help me save our souls, Before they take us out like MLK, Lennon, JFK All with a blink.
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 1:47 PM UTC
I Have A Future Reality,
I was of the South Born in my ways I could not control My path of rocks and stickerbriars Led no where , I had no where to go "I'm going back to Selma !. . . Selma ! And I had no reason just before I'm going to Selma ! . . . Selma ! And I just don't know what for" Do I really have the courage ? Maybe love is a broken window With cold air blowing in Maybe salvation is just a desire And it will be there at the end Do I really know ? Losing love is just the other part And how do I depart In Selma what is there to find ? I'm sure it can't be kind Take U S 80 , between I -20 and I -65 If I leave now I can be sure To be there to see the sunrise From the Edmund Pettus Bridge ****** Sunday , March  7 , 1965 Beaten trying to cross the bridge God's rights marching upon trampled sights Home to take back from the giver Easy to forget Selma 1965 All to easy to forget the hate Leading to Memphis April  4 , 1968 And to more than a simple mistake Will the shooting ever end ? January 20 , 2013 Jackson , Mississippi Blackman shot , MLK celebration parade The blood flows from Birmingham , to Selma To Memphis and Mississippi's charade Still I'm going to Selma . "I'm going back to Selma ! . . . Selma ! But I have no reason why I'm going back to Selma ! . . . Selma ! I think it will be just to cry" written January 20 , 2013
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 8:33 PM UTC
I'm going back to Selma
If I crossed the street I would've been in the district with all the black kids I begged my mom to take me there. If I crossed the street I wouldn't have gotten IB I wouldn't have gotten the prestige That I thought everyone deserved Saving me almost a year of college And money like a scholarship. If I crossed the street I wouldn't, as much, question my identity. I wouldn't be single and question my beauty through white eyes I would learn how to answer questions in class without feeling my white peers lying their eyes on me to see if the black girl could get it. If I crossed the street I wouldn't be the only black girl in my classes. If I crossed the street I wouldn't have to feel like MLK day was my job to announce according to my substitute teacher. Because you know what week it is! Well of course you know girl. If I crossed the street I would've been with my black brothers and sisters Rather than trying to find my black experience in my white friends But I didn't cross the street. Maybe it took a bit longer to learn to love my black because of that. But today I love myself No matter what border I reach And who disclaims or proclaims my authenticity. I love my black self. Maybe I wasn't supposed to cross the street
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Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 2:46 AM UTC
If I crossed the street
Another prophet who got his top knocked off, this system’s toxic thought we’d found hope but lost it, Nipsey Hussle shot down outside his clothing store Marathon, live and die in LA grow up only to get shot down on Slauson in Compton, and the irony is that he was taken out, in the same neighborhood he had invested in, from Proud2Pay to AfroTech Nip was a Community Activist, in a system of force fed poisons he was medicine, and maybe that’s why he was martyred, just like MLK Tupac and Marley, this is all real life in living color, life’s not a Game but this is The Documentary, every word true, I mean do you, think it’s just a coincidence, that Nip was murdered when, it was announced he was about to come out with a film, about Dr. Sebi, the herbalist, who was also possibly murdered when, he went public with claims of curing AIDS and other illnesses, nothing random about this act of violence, it makes so much sense when you think about it, nothing senseless in the message, I mean seriously think about it, MLK shot on 4/4 at 39, NIP shot on 3/31 at age 33, why do the most violent things happen, to the brothers that preach the most peace, it all makes sense everything adds up, but most will probably dismiss this just as another conspiracy, I mean I guess it doesn’t matter ‘cause nothing will bring Cuz back, RIP NIP Rest in Peace Nipsey another brother gone to young at 33, and it’s all so eery it’s creepy, all the above evidence plus, “Having enemies is a blessing.”, was his last tweet, as the words of his last sound sit in my ears as they ring, **** I wish my n!gga Fats was here, how’d you die at 30 somethin’ after bangin’ all them years, Grammy nominated in the sauna shedding tears, all this money power fame and I can’t make you reappear.”… RIP NIP ∆ LaLux ∆ LA 2019
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Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 7:27 PM UTC
RIP NIP at 33 (Rest in Peace Nipsey)
Another prophet who got his top knocked off, this system’s toxic thought we’d found hope but lost it, Nipsey Hussle shot down outside his clothing store Marathon, live and die in LA grow up only to get shot down on Slauson in Compton, and the irony is that he was taken out, in the same neighborhood he had invested in, from Proud2Pay to AfroTech Nip was a Community Activist, in a system of force fed poisons he was medicine, and maybe that’s why he was martyred, just like MLK Tupac and Marley, this is all real life in living color, life’s not a Game but this is The Documentary, every word true, I mean do you, think it’s just a coincidence, that Nip was murdered when, it was announced he was about to come out with a film, about Dr. Sebi, the herbalist, who was also possibly murdered when, he went public with claims of curing AIDS and other illnesses, nothing random about this act of violence, it makes so much sense when you think about it, nothing senseless in the message, I mean seriously think about it, MLK shot on 4/4 at 39, NIP shot on 3/31 at age 33, why do the most violent things happen, to the brothers that preach the most peace, it all makes sense everything adds up, but most will probably dismiss this just as another conspiracy, I mean I guess it doesn’t matter ‘cause nothing will bring Cuz back, RIP NIP Rest in Peace Nipsey another brother gone to young at 33, and it’s all so eery it’s creepy, all the above evidence plus, “Having enemies is a blessing.”, was his last tweet, as the words of his last sound sit in my ears as they ring, **** I wish my n!gga Fats was here, how’d you die at 30 somethin’ after bangin’ all them years, Grammy nominated in the sauna shedding tears, all this money power fame and I can’t make you reappear.”… RIP NIP ∆ LaLux ∆ LA 2019
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45
a:\>_about_race_ oh, back in civil rights times i would have been right beside you fighting... oh, what the hell you mean? there-s no such thing as racist police, the conversation should be about black-on-black violence... besides if he pulled up his pants he wouldn-t have been profiled then sure, mlk was killed in a suit, but he was speakin' wild, man... oh, and besides, i don-t see race, i have colorblindness... except if a poc gets a job over me, then that-s the only reason why they hired him... why do we talk about racism, it doesn-t exist, for godssake can-t you see we have a black president... oh, please don-t play the race-card, besides no one is more discriminated against than we are... oh, blacks shouldn-t say the n-word, just cuz of how dreadful it sounds oh, since we are best friends can i say 'nigga' now, huh? you won-t let me say it??? that-s discrimination! things are different now, you are no longer in enslavement... catch up with this nation, catch up with the times, this isn-t about race, why don-t you admit it? just because i-m white doesn-t mean i have privilege... i mean open your eyelids, i know blacks never got indentured servitude but for a second, can we focus on the irish? they suffered too, even if they won-t subjected to the same **** kidnapping, mental breakdown to force subjugation, and violence. sure we always ostracized black people but y-all put y-allselves on an island y-all will get more respect if y-all just stop embracing your race, your heritage stop calling yourselves black and african-american, just call yourselves american stop complaining, and just be silent i don-t like talking about race so much controversy surrounds it... you know the only way to stop racism is just don-t talk about it. j:\>_j_c_c_
0
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
about race
a:\>_about_race_ oh, back in civil rights times i would have been right beside you fighting... oh, what the hell you mean? there-s no such thing as racist police, the conversation should be about black-on-black violence... besides if he pulled up his pants he wouldn-t have been profiled then sure, mlk was killed in a suit, but he was speakin' wild, man... oh, and besides, i don-t see race, i have colorblindness... except if a poc gets a job over me, then that-s the only reason why they hired him... why do we talk about racism, it doesn-t exist, for godssake can-t you see we have a black president... oh, please don-t play the race-card, besides no one is more discriminated against than we are... oh, blacks shouldn-t say the n-word, just cuz of how dreadful it sounds oh, since we are best friends can i say 'nigga' now, huh? you won-t let me say it??? that-s discrimination! things are different now, you are no longer in enslavement... catch up with this nation, catch up with the times, this isn-t about race, why don-t you admit it? just because i-m white doesn-t mean i have privilege... i mean open your eyelids, i know blacks never got indentured servitude but for a second, can we focus on the irish? they suffered too, even if they won-t subjected to the same **** kidnapping, mental breakdown to force subjugation, and violence. sure we always ostracized black people but y-all put y-allselves on an island y-all will get more respect if y-all just stop embracing your race, your heritage stop calling yourselves black and african-american, just call yourselves american stop complaining, and just be silent i don-t like talking about race so much controversy surrounds it... you know the only way to stop racism is just don-t talk about it. j:\>_j_c_c_
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64
Signs point in different directions Art> <Science History^ Oddities¿ Art: Every memory of every sunrise Every beautiful melody Here. And so many images of her. Some sweet Some candid Some sad. How can we revel in the joyful Without knowing it's opposite? Every delicate poem Every lyric yelled Every painting Every sculpture And in all of them, Her. Science: Models of molecules Diagrams of data Sketches (Where are the equations?) Math is forbidden in this museum. Lectures Theories All gathering dust. History: Names. The greatest of men and women Julius Caesar Constantine Marc Anthony Cleopatra Rosa Parks Elinor Roosevelt Patton Churchill Kennedy MLK Maps and charts Famous cities of old Sparta Alexandria The halls of Montezuma Constantinople Babylon Oddities: Phantom Kangaroos Homemade Bazooka "That made the news?" And Bubblegum the Baluga The Raven Empress Flaming mattress Sharks with lasers Pandas with Tasers
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
If My Mind Were A Museum
When I hear FEMINISM, RACISM, SEXISM, IMMIGRATION or the TORTURE OF A NATION, my mind cries and my eyes go blank. Children ****** waving to their teacher Their teacher waving back A grenade is launched and chunks of her pained memory soar through the windows of the bus. War just won't stop. In the Internet, White-washed Latinos diss their mother's birth throw stones at their father's graves. Praise Uncle Sam Although Caucasians are abusing them because of their skin pigmentation Oh great U.S.A. Who incarcerated Madiba and murdered MLK. Killed more humans than Adolf and now want to buy them. With a small piece of useless land in New Mexico and Kentucky Fried Chicken. You PATHETIC CHICKEN who wants to own the world even though you haven't been here one stinkin millennium. A decade of power and now you patrol the streets. please You can't even patrol your own streets please
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 11:21 AM UTC
YOU CANT EVEN PATROL YOUR OWN STREETS
Seven score and eleven years after the Emancipation Proclamation; I'd like to thank my community for finally acknowledging his memory.   Wanting to view historical document written by Rev. Martin Luther King, logged on and took a virtual trip to our ever expanding National Archives. His views on day of historic speech, "Heartwarming to see this marvelous, gigantic group of people here from all over the nation to give witness." I'm giving credit to ABC news for being allowed to hear the man's words from his own mouth without having to read them in black and white. There's no argument in regards to race differences and that we the people, have miles to go before we are at similar mindset in climate of opinion. Spotlight should shine brightly on how far we've come as we the people, away with all the negatives of no hopes of ever achieving racial harmony. If MLK were alive today he'd see many positive changes and would see his dream is still alive and well though we have miles to journey's end. Yes, Dr. Martin Luther King, you are appreciated as we honor your day. I have many reasons to thank you and all who paid the ultimate sacrifice. My children are allowed to attend any public school they wish without fear. I can now sit in the front of the bus without fear of arrest or a mob beating.   There are no laws preventing me from front door entry of public buildings. Thanks so much! I'm free to date or marry any person of any race I choose. The list above is just a small sampling of all the changes his life evoked. I'm thankful he was gifted to our planet in period of time he was needed. He is missed by the planet and those of us who are grateful that he existed. Dr. Martin Luther King was true Visionary with foresight to see great things.
0
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 7:16 AM UTC
Martin Luther King, the Visionary
Seven score and eleven years after the Emancipation Proclamation; I'd like to thank my community for finally acknowledging his memory.   Wanting to view historical document written by Rev. Martin Luther King, logged on and took a virtual trip to our ever expanding National Archives. His views on day of historic speech, "Heartwarming to see this marvelous, gigantic group of people here from all over the nation to give witness." I'm giving credit to ABC news for being allowed to hear the man's words from his own mouth without having to read them in black and white. There's no argument in regards to race differences and that we the people, have miles to go before we are at similar mindset in climate of opinion. Spotlight should shine brightly on how far we've come as we the people, away with all the negatives of no hopes of ever achieving racial harmony. If MLK were alive today he'd see many positive changes and would see his dream is still alive and well though we have miles to journey's end. Yes, Dr. Martin Luther King, you are appreciated as we honor your day. I have many reasons to thank you and all who paid the ultimate sacrifice. My children are allowed to attend any public school they wish without fear. I can now sit in the front of the bus without fear of arrest or a mob beating.   There are no laws preventing me from front door entry of public buildings. Thanks so much! I'm free to date or marry any person of any race I choose. The list above is just a small sampling of all the changes his life evoked. I'm thankful he was gifted to our planet in period of time he was needed. He is missed by the planet and those of us who are grateful that he existed. Dr. Martin Luther King was true Visionary with foresight to see great things.
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24
There you were: Second to last track Side 1, “Atlantic Soul Classics”.1987 R.E.S.P.E.C.T. (Take out the TCP) The power, the control, the energy, Never heard a **** thing like it. Then that Cliff Richard Show footage I saw on some old BBC clip show (yeah, I know…Cliff, eh?) “Don’t Play That Song” in crackly black & white Sorry for the language, Sister.. but **** the power of your piano playing in that moment made me realise that you were not “just a singer” but a full-on force to be reckoned with. Like Sinatra you studied lyrics like a monk deep in illumination and then blew the song away with your received otherworldly knowledge: Eleanor Rigby The Weight The Dark End of The Street Border Song Bridge Over Troubled Water I Say A Little Prayer Oh, these were your songs, now. Don’t let anyone forget it. But there was something more to you than all of this. The way MLK kissed you with beaming pride at some long, forgotten award ceremony. The way you sashayed African culture when you stepped out in public. The way you ripped up your own records when you tread the boards & faced your humbled audience. The way you stood by Angela Davis when she was hooked up on some stupid jackshit Hoover charge. The way you verbalized the black American experience not just through countless moments of  sheer liberation but in the solemn way you stepped up to the piano on Amazing Grace You comforted this whiter-than-white Paddy on more than one occasion and forged a path of hope in many of his troubled waters. Oh, God we will miss you & your power – all of it. That once in a millennia voice whose measured restraint & joyful release touched millions. You will never walk alone. Farewell Queen. You are finally at peace. Thank you, thank you Ms. Franklin Sean M. O’Kane 16/8/18
0
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 5:21 PM UTC
WX 105 (for Aretha)
There you were: Second to last track Side 1, “Atlantic Soul Classics”.1987 R.E.S.P.E.C.T. (Take out the TCP) The power, the control, the energy, Never heard a **** thing like it. Then that Cliff Richard Show footage I saw on some old BBC clip show (yeah, I know…Cliff, eh?) “Don’t Play That Song” in crackly black & white Sorry for the language, Sister.. but **** the power of your piano playing in that moment made me realise that you were not “just a singer” but a full-on force to be reckoned with. Like Sinatra you studied lyrics like a monk deep in illumination and then blew the song away with your received otherworldly knowledge: Eleanor Rigby The Weight The Dark End of The Street Border Song Bridge Over Troubled Water I Say A Little Prayer Oh, these were your songs, now. Don’t let anyone forget it. But there was something more to you than all of this. The way MLK kissed you with beaming pride at some long, forgotten award ceremony. The way you sashayed African culture when you stepped out in public. The way you ripped up your own records when you tread the boards & faced your humbled audience. The way you stood by Angela Davis when she was hooked up on some stupid jackshit Hoover charge. The way you verbalized the black American experience not just through countless moments of  sheer liberation but in the solemn way you stepped up to the piano on Amazing Grace You comforted this whiter-than-white Paddy on more than one occasion and forged a path of hope in many of his troubled waters. Oh, God we will miss you & your power – all of it. That once in a millennia voice whose measured restraint & joyful release touched millions. You will never walk alone. Farewell Queen. You are finally at peace. Thank you, thank you Ms. Franklin Sean M. O’Kane 16/8/18
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32
And the chapped sun-baked tire swung on the aged and frail rope attached to the most outright branch of the sheltersome oak tree by the carved up picnic bench. Children fought for such a throne on warm summer days, Not many cared for clawing and snatching in attaining it, But it was a necessary fight in those days. Once they sat in their highest place and swung to the skies, All they could see was the wind-ridden flow of treetops rustling and swaying, creating nature’s static, This why they fought, This is why only the battered and bruised cooled their cuts with forest breeze. It broke one day, after being a shelter in storming youth, Charles Ferger snapped the rope on a smooth swing to reach the sky. They knew the clock was counting down and no one could see how much time was left, but they still hated Charles for being the one it broke on. It wasn’t his fault, and they knew it, but they had to blame someone. No one ventured to it for the first few weeks, The sight of it only reopened healing wounds. At a certain point, years later, after the kids had gone to high school, it was fixed. No one knew who fixed it or when, since the kids still went out there once in a while to drink some nights and have campfires, but they were glad it was fixed, then news of the resurrection spread. And on one MLK day, no one remembers which, they had a bonfire and swung as high as they could to christen it back to its precious worn state once more, fighting over it with the intentional caution they used to use when wrestling for the uninhibited freedom that in lay dormant in the crusty black tire swing.
0
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 2:48 AM UTC
Tire Swing
And the chapped sun-baked tire swung on the aged and frail rope attached to the most outright branch of the sheltersome oak tree by the carved up picnic bench. Children fought for such a throne on warm summer days, Not many cared for clawing and snatching in attaining it, But it was a necessary fight in those days. Once they sat in their highest place and swung to the skies, All they could see was the wind-ridden flow of treetops rustling and swaying, creating nature’s static, This why they fought, This is why only the battered and bruised cooled their cuts with forest breeze. It broke one day, after being a shelter in storming youth, Charles Ferger snapped the rope on a smooth swing to reach the sky. They knew the clock was counting down and no one could see how much time was left, but they still hated Charles for being the one it broke on. It wasn’t his fault, and they knew it, but they had to blame someone. No one ventured to it for the first few weeks, The sight of it only reopened healing wounds. At a certain point, years later, after the kids had gone to high school, it was fixed. No one knew who fixed it or when, since the kids still went out there once in a while to drink some nights and have campfires, but they were glad it was fixed, then news of the resurrection spread. And on one MLK day, no one remembers which, they had a bonfire and swung as high as they could to christen it back to its precious worn state once more, fighting over it with the intentional caution they used to use when wrestling for the uninhibited freedom that in lay dormant in the crusty black tire swing.
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37
I was waiting for a simple message from you that we both know was never to come. I sat impatiently atop the cities tallest building and watched the coming storm.  I witnessed the water beat the feeble earth into submission and it looked alright to me.  But then the raging sinless sea swallowed the shore.  The end of our hometown (est. 1919) took about a minute and a half. A man leapt out of his chair and said it was amazing as the punishing, purifying wave tore into his home of 20 years.  The coin laundromats and malls became the shallows and downtown by the Top 40 radio station became the deep.  Clown fish swam amongst the stop lights, trash cans and satellite dishes.  And a coral reef began to grow deeply into the brick of the tasty Greek restaurant at the corner of MLK and Main.  Eels and rays swam up the sidewalks and hammerheads patroled the submerged skyscrapers.  Admittedly, a lot of the busy people who didn’t take the time to look out their smudged windows and watch the water devour the flood walls and seafront property didn’t make it out of their homes and cars and schools and businesses.  And those people that didn’t make it to the outskirts of the metro in time were quickly drowned and integrated breathlessly into the oceanic food chain.  The deep began to kiss my ankles and I thought I would surely drown.  I surmised that you probably weren’t thinking about us at that moment and that it was for the best.  You had other matters on your mind. I watched a miniature apocalypse take place and I thought I should probably call and quickly tell you that everything you ever loved was gone or going. I decided against it. Anything I say to you is gonna come out wrong anyway.
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Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 2:11 AM UTC
How We Breathe (Underwater)
I was waiting for a simple message from you that we both know was never to come. I sat impatiently atop the cities tallest building and watched the coming storm.  I witnessed the water beat the feeble earth into submission and it looked alright to me.  But then the raging sinless sea swallowed the shore.  The end of our hometown (est. 1919) took about a minute and a half. A man leapt out of his chair and said it was amazing as the punishing, purifying wave tore into his home of 20 years.  The coin laundromats and malls became the shallows and downtown by the Top 40 radio station became the deep.  Clown fish swam amongst the stop lights, trash cans and satellite dishes.  And a coral reef began to grow deeply into the brick of the tasty Greek restaurant at the corner of MLK and Main.  Eels and rays swam up the sidewalks and hammerheads patroled the submerged skyscrapers.  Admittedly, a lot of the busy people who didn’t take the time to look out their smudged windows and watch the water devour the flood walls and seafront property didn’t make it out of their homes and cars and schools and businesses.  And those people that didn’t make it to the outskirts of the metro in time were quickly drowned and integrated breathlessly into the oceanic food chain.  The deep began to kiss my ankles and I thought I would surely drown.  I surmised that you probably weren’t thinking about us at that moment and that it was for the best.  You had other matters on your mind. I watched a miniature apocalypse take place and I thought I should probably call and quickly tell you that everything you ever loved was gone or going. I decided against it. Anything I say to you is gonna come out wrong anyway.
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give us this day our daily emotional breakdown and forgive us our blackout binges as we forgive those who starve themselves for perfection and lead us not into inherited obesity deliver us from the mental ward **FOR THERE IS SO MUCH ****** BREAD IN THIS HOUSE I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE** on mlk day i shut my eyes and see scenes of squishy white rolls and pats of margarine bread leaden deadened feeling in my stomach *i can't eat any more bread* but here it is in baskets and coolers in toasters and cupboards my daily bread made to sustain me but turned into the enemy deliver me from risen yeast in third degrees a flour coated tyranny mind control through sesame *swallowing emotions down down down* quietly settles until spring somewhere between my hope and skin you can see me smile and stand straight and tall but what you can't see is this shouldn't be my body at all *give us this day our daily bread and give us the strength to chew meat instead*
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Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 11:22 PM UTC
daily bread
he was a man no taller than an ox. he was a galactic, well-tongued to express love & liberty. by blood naked hopes. he sat shackled back and dreaming, chanting for smooth justice. i have come, today! we have come, all days! brothers and sisters and people before the storm this you must realize… your freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. we cannot walk alone.
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 3:01 AM UTC
mlk
I'm truly blessed to be counted amongst the trooping pilgrims walking dusty roads, negotiating rocky Himalayan trails on the way to the mountain top. Together as brothers and sisters, we traverse precarious paths, strengthening each other, bucking up, getting a second wind to make that final push to scale the most jagged boulders that lie nearest the peaks. I'm heartened to see Dorothy Day, Mahatmas Gandhi, The Dali Llama, Nelson Mandela and Johnny Cash, trooping along side me; keeping me in step as we press on to the promised land. If I get hungry, Dorthy will serve me soup to feed my spirit. If I get lonely, Mahatmas will muster up a posse, freely welling from salt of the earth to walk with me. If I take a wrong turn, The Dali Llama's smiling eyes and sage advise will get my feet back on the right path. On this tiresome journey if my will begins to falter and my commitment wanes, Nelson will remind me to endure the trial with the grace of fortitude. And if we enter dangerous canyons, filled with the cacophony of boisterous hate, The Man in Black will strum his guitar to quell the angry noise and fill our hearts with loving harmony. We're on our way to Freedom's Land and some believe we're almost there. We can see Martin looking over those last jagged ledges, he's got a prayer of encouragement on his lips, and he's waving Mrs. Liberty's torch, showing us the way, guiding us home. Music Selection: Sweet Honey on the Rock: Ain't Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Around MLK Jr. Day 1/16/12 Oakland jbm
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Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 11:55 AM UTC
Mountaintops
I'm truly blessed to be counted amongst the trooping pilgrims walking dusty roads, negotiating rocky Himalayan trails on the way to the mountain top. Together as brothers and sisters, we traverse precarious paths, strengthening each other, bucking up, getting a second wind to make that final push to scale the most jagged boulders that lie nearest the peaks. I'm heartened to see Dorothy Day, Mahatmas Gandhi, The Dali Llama, Nelson Mandela and Johnny Cash, trooping along side me; keeping me in step as we press on to the promised land. If I get hungry, Dorthy will serve me soup to feed my spirit. If I get lonely, Mahatmas will muster up a posse, freely welling from salt of the earth to walk with me. If I take a wrong turn, The Dali Llama's smiling eyes and sage advise will get my feet back on the right path. On this tiresome journey if my will begins to falter and my commitment wanes, Nelson will remind me to endure the trial with the grace of fortitude. And if we enter dangerous canyons, filled with the cacophony of boisterous hate, The Man in Black will strum his guitar to quell the angry noise and fill our hearts with loving harmony. We're on our way to Freedom's Land and some believe we're almost there. We can see Martin looking over those last jagged ledges, he's got a prayer of encouragement on his lips, and he's waving Mrs. Liberty's torch, showing us the way, guiding us home. Music Selection: Sweet Honey on the Rock: Ain't Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Around MLK Jr. Day 1/16/12 Oakland jbm
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Martin Luther King's dream means: Massively Less Ku Klux **** members
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Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
MLK
Can we go back...to where life met laughter. To when love had more value than fame. To how we used to respect those who came before us. And family extend far beyond the limits of your doorsteps. Can I get back to a gap toothed smile and fill em in puzzles. To puff bread and pecan candy. To walking my hanging with the homies at Dunbar. Who want to go back to walking from Oak St to Wakefield. Playing ball at Centennial Park, East end community center and MLK Elementary. Somehow I've wipped away a lot of my memory, however, I'll never forget my homies playing their makeshift drum set and me winking at their sister behind their back. Childhood crushes right. I have erased dates and events but the way you all have influenced me is engraved in me like the chiseled details on Donatello sculptures. I just want to go.....
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Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 9:52 PM UTC
Memory Lane
Bull Connor, like the Dutch Boy from Haarlem, put his finger in a hole to plug a burgeoning leak. But Bull Connor, unlike the boy from Haarlem, did not foresee the raging torrents of history, smashing against the crumbling walls of the porous **** he sought to buttress. His decadent heroism held no moral authority to sustain his ungodly labors. His savage dogs, hungry for meat, bent on aggression for a twisted masters bidding were devoured by the teeth of a movement hungry for justice. His water cannons, tiny water pistols, ****** into the mighty squalls of a raging hurricane that blew the stinking ***** back onto his face. The weight of history moves with the just. Untruth, arch rival of justice, is blown away, like an expired candle snuffed out, blessedly extinguished from the first breath of a glorious new day. Bull Connor doesn’t rest in peace. He stands on the other side of the river. He is the rich man driven by insane thirst begging for water from a comforted Lazarus, now secure in the ***** of Abraham. Bull Connor looks across the chasm of fire he knows he'll never bridge. Medgar Evers and MLK Jr. stand as keepers, collecting tolls for a heavenly passage from the wages he earned for his earthly work. A forlorn Bull Connor forever searches deep empty pockets for fare as Martin and Medgar patiently wait with outstretched palms. Music Selection: The Soul Stirrers, Jesus Gave Me Water MLK Jr. Day 1/20/86 NYC jbm
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Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC
Epitath for Bull Conner
bellows in the belly of sky pulling out thunder, filled with light n ing
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Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 11:16 AM UTC
speech by MLK
When white men spit hatred through spiteful lips, what will you do? Will you raise your fists? When a white man kills a black teen without blinking, will you turn from protests to riots without even thinking. You want to prove something? Prove that there is nothing a white man could do to break the black community. Show that you will never fight fire with fire. Keep MLK alive, let him live in your city. Beat hatred unconscious with love, and drown it in peaceful protest. For, Mike Brown's death was only a test.
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 9:04 AM UTC
Dear Ferguson,
I turned to my ***** as I lit my cigarette. Hella stressed I said "Ain't life a ***** We trapped between the rich and the poor trying to make it to one and stay away from the other. Our people step on each other to get above one another. Instead of extending a hand to help a brother. Do you know what they did? I know what they did?! They brainwashed us to **** each other. If we aren't killing each other they plotting to lock us up with each other to do a long bid. The cops, the judges and the politicians are kin. They don't want to give us a chance to win. They got us separated by religion, race, and ****** orientation. To worsen the complication they got the police waiting to **** a black male with no contemplation. Because they say we are likely to start a confrontation. There's no peace. When I look around all I see is hatred. Jesus, Ghandi, and MLK told us to turn the other cheek. Will we ever face it? Forces reaching our soul through the airwaves and spaces. All I see is satan. All I see is masons.   All I see is the land of the broken, ,lost and forsaken. We ball up our fist. Trying to make it through the day without getting too ****** Wishin that we could just quit. **** man, Ain't life a ***** No disrespect to women. This is how I'm feelin. If she call herself one then she shouldn't be offended. If she do then she see how we ain't winning. That's why every night she's up in the strip club sinning. To catch a ***** slippin To catch a ***** trippin To catch a ***** trickin off his last. She will give him some *** Because she need that cash. **** a paycheck. She knows this money comes fast. If he's trippin hard enough She will run his pockets rough. Until his soul is gone And the repo man is taking his truck. With every ****** interaction She loses a piece of herself in the temporary satisfaction. Like her soul is being extracted and if she meets her soulmate he wouldn't be as attracted to her soul because it's all in fragments Her mind has grown stagnant. ******* it. Ain't life a *****
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Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
"Ain't Life A *****
I turned to my ***** as I lit my cigarette. Hella stressed I said "Ain't life a ***** We trapped between the rich and the poor trying to make it to one and stay away from the other. Our people step on each other to get above one another. Instead of extending a hand to help a brother. Do you know what they did? I know what they did?! They brainwashed us to **** each other. If we aren't killing each other they plotting to lock us up with each other to do a long bid. The cops, the judges and the politicians are kin. They don't want to give us a chance to win. They got us separated by religion, race, and ****** orientation. To worsen the complication they got the police waiting to **** a black male with no contemplation. Because they say we are likely to start a confrontation. There's no peace. When I look around all I see is hatred. Jesus, Ghandi, and MLK told us to turn the other cheek. Will we ever face it? Forces reaching our soul through the airwaves and spaces. All I see is satan. All I see is masons.   All I see is the land of the broken, ,lost and forsaken. We ball up our fist. Trying to make it through the day without getting too ****** Wishin that we could just quit. **** man, Ain't life a ***** No disrespect to women. This is how I'm feelin. If she call herself one then she shouldn't be offended. If she do then she see how we ain't winning. That's why every night she's up in the strip club sinning. To catch a ***** slippin To catch a ***** trippin To catch a ***** trickin off his last. She will give him some *** Because she need that cash. **** a paycheck. She knows this money comes fast. If he's trippin hard enough She will run his pockets rough. Until his soul is gone And the repo man is taking his truck. With every ****** interaction She loses a piece of herself in the temporary satisfaction. Like her soul is being extracted and if she meets her soulmate he wouldn't be as attracted to her soul because it's all in fragments Her mind has grown stagnant. ******* it. Ain't life a *****
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