God is good. All the time...all the time. I received confirmation today that God has a special place for me in his kingdom. It is not to be admired nor revered, but to work. I was afforded, by diligence and faith, the opportunity to reclaim that which I have worked nearly a decade for-my PhD from Howard University. It matters not, at this moment, why the quest was stalled-or why it felt that way-but it is now a more realistic journey. I was diligent-yes-but God made the way when there was no way. I am indebted to him.
It is that debt that helps me understand that is not the only reason I have been provided with this breakthrough=you see I feel he has important work for me to do and that work is directly connected to the PhD. My good friend-a man I consider family-has a son not but 20 years old lying less than a mile from here in the hospital...shot through the lung while being robbed. He is still with us-there is the blessing from God. He is a great writer-there is the answer from God. The streets he does not belong to, he belongs to God. I am supposed to tell him that.
I am supposed to tell them all that. God needs soldiers. He has given us the symbol of hope in our New President Barak Obama...but he needs foot soldiers. Scholars, educators, teachers...those who bring the message directly to the people-feed them. That is my role. It is real simple to see. I can get through to some folks that others simply cannot. I put together a one-man show, a play of sorts to promote the messages I thought needed to be out there. Right now I think that show needs to change a bit, but in the midst of getting back in school I was going to put it off. But it is in my spirit. It does not have to be the most extravagent of affairs but I still need to do it...real simple, real powerful and focused. Just like with my studying-all focused on the ultimate goal-becoming all that God intended me to be.
But still, though many things have been going well in my life the issue of school played a tremendous role in humbling me as a man. You are not afforded anything without first-God, then hard work, and lastly humility. It can all be taken away at any minute and you can be scrutinized and ridiculed. It takes one moment. Man is inconsistent, and only God is "real" with you all the time. It has been a long walk home, but I am there. Back to where I began this journey not so long ago and prepared to continue to march on to victory.
I had nearly...lost my way
wandered for what seemed like
40 days and 40 nights in the wilderness
Of life
Darkness in the world
nearly allowed my spirit to remain
unclaimed
my dreams unfulfilled
still I could not deny
my very being
the essence of this man
commands the same
as those who first framed the Constitution
those who understood the blueprint
had already been laid
and upon recognition of the
Savior
I was saved
cannot take your talents to
the grave
supposed to lift up others
with your
story
testimony of a man
who had lost his
way
still he took no steps alone
strength is gained in the journey
and thus, I begin...
the long walk home
Copyright 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Yes We Can
Barack Obama has been elected President of the United States. It is official. The first African American to become our President has happened 35 years into my lifetime. There is nothing bigger, that I have witnessed, than this moment. It may be the most significant event of my entire journey here on Earth. I can hardly believe it is true. President Obama.
I brought in the news with my DC family-Melissa, Mike, and Brin-oh, and perhaps the entire OBAMA-NATION! We were on 14th and U, where it seems all the most significant events in my life have taken place, at a spot called Tabaq. We wanted to go to the liberal-minded and revolutionary influenced Busboys and Poets, but it was a line longer than the one to vote that morning so we settled in around the corner. It was a packed house, and we had a table near the big screen to watch the results of the election.
The atmosphere was amazing. It was like we were at a sports contest, yet I never felt any anxiety about the outcome. I knew he-we would win. State by state came upon the screen and the people cheered...gave high fives and hugs. Total strangers embracing change. It was a wonderful sight to see. Then came the announcement- Barack Obama has been elected President of the United States. President of the United States. President. I was in awe. There was all this noise around me and movement but I could hear nothing...I was inside the moment. I was just staring at the screen.
We listened to his speech in the midst of a coalition of believers...believers in change and the possibilities of our nation. It was surreal. People were hugging and holding hands during the speech but I was in a trance...arms folded and just listening intently. I had believed this day would come, not from the beginning that would be a lie, but I had believed shortly thereafter. It came a time when hope sprung a leak in me and I could not plug the hole. During this moment I was overwhelmed with that emotion-my eyes watered at the enormity of the occasion.
You really had to see it. When we walked out of Tabaq, well, you just had to be there. I think it is on YouTube somewhere, maybe I will find it and post the link. But it was, well like nothing I had ever seen in my lifetime. U Street was full of people. The corner of 14th and U was packed with people singing, crying, yelling, dancing...all ranges of emotion. They were adorned in Obama paraphelnelia...Get Out to VOTE t-shirts, and faded jeans. It was a humongous block party that I am told went from 14th Street all the way to the White House. Police were just sitting in their cruisers watching the excitement...it was euphoria. I mean look up the word and read its definition. That is what I felt there. But I also felt that I was amongst the people of the nation- black, white, asian, indian, young, old, gay, straight, professional, thug...the country was spread across U Street dancing to the congo drums and chanting "Obama, Obama, OOOO-Ba-Ma" at the top of their lungs.
That night. That moment...well, it began. All the fanfare up to the day was real. People were as peaceful as they had ever been in life. It was hard to imagine just 40 years before people, young and high-spirited, had burned the same U Street down and rioted throughout the city at the news of the death of their beloved King. On this evening, we saw that his death was not in vain. All had been prophecized and realized in 40 years.
I do not look at tomorrow, or President Obama with unrealistic expectation. The road will not be easy-he said it himself in his speech-but it matters not. Not for this entry. Not for this moment. This moment alone, is without ridicule and critique. It is pure. It is joy. It will never be tainted. You cannot destroy this memory. It is beautiful. Our shining black prince. He is truly a representation of all that is good in America. The dream illustrated.
There are no words to describe how the ancestors feel-both black and white. Reconciliation brought forth in a people's movement for change. On this day, we allow our symbol to shine. For all those who wish to say or think we cannot we tell them simply...Yes We Can. Thank you Jesus for allowing me to witness today.
I brought in the news with my DC family-Melissa, Mike, and Brin-oh, and perhaps the entire OBAMA-NATION! We were on 14th and U, where it seems all the most significant events in my life have taken place, at a spot called Tabaq. We wanted to go to the liberal-minded and revolutionary influenced Busboys and Poets, but it was a line longer than the one to vote that morning so we settled in around the corner. It was a packed house, and we had a table near the big screen to watch the results of the election.
The atmosphere was amazing. It was like we were at a sports contest, yet I never felt any anxiety about the outcome. I knew he-we would win. State by state came upon the screen and the people cheered...gave high fives and hugs. Total strangers embracing change. It was a wonderful sight to see. Then came the announcement- Barack Obama has been elected President of the United States. President of the United States. President. I was in awe. There was all this noise around me and movement but I could hear nothing...I was inside the moment. I was just staring at the screen.
We listened to his speech in the midst of a coalition of believers...believers in change and the possibilities of our nation. It was surreal. People were hugging and holding hands during the speech but I was in a trance...arms folded and just listening intently. I had believed this day would come, not from the beginning that would be a lie, but I had believed shortly thereafter. It came a time when hope sprung a leak in me and I could not plug the hole. During this moment I was overwhelmed with that emotion-my eyes watered at the enormity of the occasion.
You really had to see it. When we walked out of Tabaq, well, you just had to be there. I think it is on YouTube somewhere, maybe I will find it and post the link. But it was, well like nothing I had ever seen in my lifetime. U Street was full of people. The corner of 14th and U was packed with people singing, crying, yelling, dancing...all ranges of emotion. They were adorned in Obama paraphelnelia...Get Out to VOTE t-shirts, and faded jeans. It was a humongous block party that I am told went from 14th Street all the way to the White House. Police were just sitting in their cruisers watching the excitement...it was euphoria. I mean look up the word and read its definition. That is what I felt there. But I also felt that I was amongst the people of the nation- black, white, asian, indian, young, old, gay, straight, professional, thug...the country was spread across U Street dancing to the congo drums and chanting "Obama, Obama, OOOO-Ba-Ma" at the top of their lungs.
That night. That moment...well, it began. All the fanfare up to the day was real. People were as peaceful as they had ever been in life. It was hard to imagine just 40 years before people, young and high-spirited, had burned the same U Street down and rioted throughout the city at the news of the death of their beloved King. On this evening, we saw that his death was not in vain. All had been prophecized and realized in 40 years.
I do not look at tomorrow, or President Obama with unrealistic expectation. The road will not be easy-he said it himself in his speech-but it matters not. Not for this entry. Not for this moment. This moment alone, is without ridicule and critique. It is pure. It is joy. It will never be tainted. You cannot destroy this memory. It is beautiful. Our shining black prince. He is truly a representation of all that is good in America. The dream illustrated.
There are no words to describe how the ancestors feel-both black and white. Reconciliation brought forth in a people's movement for change. On this day, we allow our symbol to shine. For all those who wish to say or think we cannot we tell them simply...Yes We Can. Thank you Jesus for allowing me to witness today.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Election Eve
I just shed a tear. I feel more of them welled up behind my eyes...but the one carried in it the hope of tomorrow. Not the figurative tomorrow-the future-but truly tomorrow. November 4th, 2008. Election day in the United States of America. The day we will elect, choose, decide upon an African-American for the highest office in the land. I am emotional, I am nervous, and I am anxious. But I have no fear. This has been ordained by God. I said it long ago, and now...in the midst of financial crisis, war, and turmoil we will crown a sweet shining prince with that which has never been available to anyone with skin the hue of the earth.
It seems as though sadness must accompany joy. Senator Obama's grandmother died on this day, Election Eve-prior to seeing her most precious baby enter the office of the President. He must be tired and longing to mourn this great loss. His mother gone, his father non-existent and now his grandmother has accompanied his grandfather in heaven. But in him there is no time to mourn, for he clearly understands she brought him to this level...she laid the path for him to have this moment. It is now the time for him to walk alone. He has Michelle and the children, but at this moment-in the dawn of this new day he stands alone and waiting for we the people, to speak.
I have been overwhelmed by this campaign. The possibility no longer being simply that, a possibility, but something far greater yet still not quite tangible. I am tired of race. Obama has opened my eyes to that fatigue. I am tired of being tied to that which I have no control over. I am tired of being judged because of it-stereotyped, assumed to be that which I may not be. I love who I am and my culture-but the racialization of life is exhausting. I am even tired of thinking about race so much. We are human beings, people, Americans. We are all striving in essence for the same things and our moral compass is not that different because of our racial background. We are all the children of God. Obama will be our President, as was Clinton, and Bush. He is a man and will make mistakes...not because he is black or white, but because he is human. He will excel for the very same reason.
It is his time. I listened to the "talking heads" for as long as I could this evening but I became tired of their answers-to the polls, to excitement, to the possibility. Tired of McCain and Palin one-liners. I am biased, but still I wanted to just bask in the moment. This moment I speak of, is his moment...there is nothing I feel that can change that. It has been written. So, I want to simply meditate on it for a while. Let the joy marinate my spirit. Bask in the calm before tomorrow. I sit here and reflect on Dr. King, DuBois, Garvey, Kennedy, Roosevelt...Douglass. Men who saw the world differently and whose vision shaped who we are as a nation and a people. I want to love the President. To respect him and honor his name. Barack Obama commands that type of love and respect without asking for it. He is a leader.
It is almost like Christmas eve. I and millions of other are waiting for our gift. It is called progress. It is no longer a hypothetical statement. It is true. There are some, on both sides of the gambit who will say this means nothing...merely symbols without substance. I would argue that first of all Obama is brilliant, not just smart. I would say that his symbol alone, if he is simply that, is substantive in that it changes the symbols formerly associated with an entire race of people. For that reason-the two, symbol and substance, cannot be divided when speaking of him.
He is a learned man, with an almost regal demeanor. That is how we should be represented as a nation around the world. Our leaders should carry an air of royalty with them. They should be above pettiness and that should be apparent in all that they do. They are role models to the world, and they represent each and every one of us here in the US.
Tomorrow I will vote with a passion and vigor never found in the process before. I will smile and sing to myself upon touching the screen, or coloring in the circle or whatever I need to do to acknowledge my vote. Tomorrow I vote for my children's dreams. Langston put it like this, "I too sing America. I am the darker brother, you send me to eat in the kitchen when company comes. But I eat well, and grow strong." We are stronger. We are ready...God please, let us move forward.
Progress will be made when eve greets dawn.
It seems as though sadness must accompany joy. Senator Obama's grandmother died on this day, Election Eve-prior to seeing her most precious baby enter the office of the President. He must be tired and longing to mourn this great loss. His mother gone, his father non-existent and now his grandmother has accompanied his grandfather in heaven. But in him there is no time to mourn, for he clearly understands she brought him to this level...she laid the path for him to have this moment. It is now the time for him to walk alone. He has Michelle and the children, but at this moment-in the dawn of this new day he stands alone and waiting for we the people, to speak.
I have been overwhelmed by this campaign. The possibility no longer being simply that, a possibility, but something far greater yet still not quite tangible. I am tired of race. Obama has opened my eyes to that fatigue. I am tired of being tied to that which I have no control over. I am tired of being judged because of it-stereotyped, assumed to be that which I may not be. I love who I am and my culture-but the racialization of life is exhausting. I am even tired of thinking about race so much. We are human beings, people, Americans. We are all striving in essence for the same things and our moral compass is not that different because of our racial background. We are all the children of God. Obama will be our President, as was Clinton, and Bush. He is a man and will make mistakes...not because he is black or white, but because he is human. He will excel for the very same reason.
It is his time. I listened to the "talking heads" for as long as I could this evening but I became tired of their answers-to the polls, to excitement, to the possibility. Tired of McCain and Palin one-liners. I am biased, but still I wanted to just bask in the moment. This moment I speak of, is his moment...there is nothing I feel that can change that. It has been written. So, I want to simply meditate on it for a while. Let the joy marinate my spirit. Bask in the calm before tomorrow. I sit here and reflect on Dr. King, DuBois, Garvey, Kennedy, Roosevelt...Douglass. Men who saw the world differently and whose vision shaped who we are as a nation and a people. I want to love the President. To respect him and honor his name. Barack Obama commands that type of love and respect without asking for it. He is a leader.
It is almost like Christmas eve. I and millions of other are waiting for our gift. It is called progress. It is no longer a hypothetical statement. It is true. There are some, on both sides of the gambit who will say this means nothing...merely symbols without substance. I would argue that first of all Obama is brilliant, not just smart. I would say that his symbol alone, if he is simply that, is substantive in that it changes the symbols formerly associated with an entire race of people. For that reason-the two, symbol and substance, cannot be divided when speaking of him.
He is a learned man, with an almost regal demeanor. That is how we should be represented as a nation around the world. Our leaders should carry an air of royalty with them. They should be above pettiness and that should be apparent in all that they do. They are role models to the world, and they represent each and every one of us here in the US.
Tomorrow I will vote with a passion and vigor never found in the process before. I will smile and sing to myself upon touching the screen, or coloring in the circle or whatever I need to do to acknowledge my vote. Tomorrow I vote for my children's dreams. Langston put it like this, "I too sing America. I am the darker brother, you send me to eat in the kitchen when company comes. But I eat well, and grow strong." We are stronger. We are ready...God please, let us move forward.
Progress will be made when eve greets dawn.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Identity
There are times, when I do not identify with people who are supposedly like me. It is not that I try to be different than everyone, I mean at some point we are all individuals and no two persons have the exact same experiences. But we categorize, generalize and basically lump people together all the time. I think it is this "lumping" that I resist the most. I don't know...at times I feel like I may think I am not in a category but in reality I am. It is in this exploration, or perhaps a better word 'confrontation' with self that the question of identity arises. Who am I really? Like beyond the "how I see me," who does the world see me? My family-friends? Who is it that I portray on a daily basis?
I ask these questions not truly in expectation of some miraculous answer to suddenly appear-but in hopes of analyzing myself and taking a step back from simply being...to start becoming. I know this is all abstract so I will try to frame it. I have been moving along the pathway of life for 35 years...not exactly in control of the path, but more taking it as it came and dealing with the joys and pains along the way. At one point perhaps I charted my course, but when various happenings, well, happened, and the course I charted was re-routed I kinda just went with it. I have not controlled many of the outcomes that have happened, I was simply a recipient of the positive or negative affects. When a person lives this way, where life is on somewhat of auto-pilot than I feel that person is simply being. This doesn't mean that no decisions are made, but life is not moving in a definite direction because of the input or work of the individual. Arguably, it is moving in a direction because of the lack of input and/or work.
I am simply being. In being, one's identity is soft...like lines drawn in sand. The person is somewhat unsure of who he or she truly is, or wants to be, and is most often in a continuous state of 'figuring' that out. To be or not to be; that is the question. I feel most are in this place, where there identity is fluid and although the traits of their personality may be well-defined who they essentially are-beyond paper-is less rigid. It is not bad to just be...but to become, well that is something more structured; purposeful.
To become is first to understand what it is and who it is you wish to become. In other words, there is a finish line...a completion date. The irony in this is that it may never be met, but the actions and work in this individual's life is all in an effort to become "someone," greater than the present state. For example-he wanted to become a writer. So he wrote, and became an author. So he published his writings and continued to become a novelist. Thus to become, is to be in the continuous state of becoming...moving, progressing, increasing, rising, developing.
Therefore identity, is not a stagnant term. In this I mean if we are in a constant state of becoming, then our identity is ever-changing. We do not have to be defined simply by who we have been, but also by who we wish to be. It is in this notion, that we do not have to be constricted by our identity. I am not a simply a man...but so much more.
I am who I be...
and I am not
I can change the frame
around this thing
but the same
will be
and still not entirely
I am at times
simply who you see-
defined by the world
my reality
far different
than that which others
perceive
yet
I admit it
seems I have got
an image that is
inconsistently projected
on the jumbo screen
of daily life
and as much as I
believe
I be as real as they
come
I am not
not good or bad
nor more or less
the best of me is all I got
and these issues
with my identity
I ask these questions not truly in expectation of some miraculous answer to suddenly appear-but in hopes of analyzing myself and taking a step back from simply being...to start becoming. I know this is all abstract so I will try to frame it. I have been moving along the pathway of life for 35 years...not exactly in control of the path, but more taking it as it came and dealing with the joys and pains along the way. At one point perhaps I charted my course, but when various happenings, well, happened, and the course I charted was re-routed I kinda just went with it. I have not controlled many of the outcomes that have happened, I was simply a recipient of the positive or negative affects. When a person lives this way, where life is on somewhat of auto-pilot than I feel that person is simply being. This doesn't mean that no decisions are made, but life is not moving in a definite direction because of the input or work of the individual. Arguably, it is moving in a direction because of the lack of input and/or work.
I am simply being. In being, one's identity is soft...like lines drawn in sand. The person is somewhat unsure of who he or she truly is, or wants to be, and is most often in a continuous state of 'figuring' that out. To be or not to be; that is the question. I feel most are in this place, where there identity is fluid and although the traits of their personality may be well-defined who they essentially are-beyond paper-is less rigid. It is not bad to just be...but to become, well that is something more structured; purposeful.
To become is first to understand what it is and who it is you wish to become. In other words, there is a finish line...a completion date. The irony in this is that it may never be met, but the actions and work in this individual's life is all in an effort to become "someone," greater than the present state. For example-he wanted to become a writer. So he wrote, and became an author. So he published his writings and continued to become a novelist. Thus to become, is to be in the continuous state of becoming...moving, progressing, increasing, rising, developing.
Therefore identity, is not a stagnant term. In this I mean if we are in a constant state of becoming, then our identity is ever-changing. We do not have to be defined simply by who we have been, but also by who we wish to be. It is in this notion, that we do not have to be constricted by our identity. I am not a simply a man...but so much more.
I am who I be...
and I am not
I can change the frame
around this thing
but the same
will be
and still not entirely
I am at times
simply who you see-
defined by the world
my reality
far different
than that which others
perceive
yet
I admit it
seems I have got
an image that is
inconsistently projected
on the jumbo screen
of daily life
and as much as I
believe
I be as real as they
come
I am not
not good or bad
nor more or less
the best of me is all I got
and these issues
with my identity
Friday, October 24, 2008
Blood on the Ballot Box...boy
On this past evening I attended a most powerful "Get Out to VOTE" Rally, and I must admit I was overwhelmed. I was actually on the program, with the likes of folks from the show The Wire, and National Urban League President and CEO Marc Morial...it was quite riveting to say the least. I performed a recently written piece entitle "Blood on the Ballot Box." I did not know it would register with people the way that it did and I am proud of the response. My critique of myself is it could have been tighter-muffed some lines-but at the end of the day the message is the most meaningful aspect and the audience got that.
I think the audience, the nation really, understands that concept better now than ever before. We are indebted to the ancestors, for it is their blood that was lost so we could gain-so we could have just this moment to seriously ponder a black man as our president. The fear in all this is that the race is far from over, and there are forces that will try to negate the power of this moment, and others that will try to reverse this tide of change. However, that which has been ordained by God, no man can deny.
Barack Obama...from great speech in '04, to longshot, to presumptive nominee, to party leader to this moment. The ride has been remarkable, but it is not simply his rise to party prominence and international notariety that I pay attention to but the emotions of our people...citizens of this democratic America whom are ready to make a difference in their country and the world. I do not think that it is ironic that I was in Williamsburg, Virginia for the entire week before the rally. I was assisting with a government fellows program entitled Excellence in Government, and our kickoff celebration was in the historic and presently colonial Williamsburg.
The beauty in the fact that I was there came in the form of past reality. In the term past reality, I mean that I was forced to examine the construction of this nation, in its most raw form. Slavery was discussed as a necessary-economic phenomenon in the same breath as equality of man. As I sat there inhaling the eloquence of the Declaration of Independence, I simultaneously thought of all my ancestors whose blood, sweat and tears held this nation up during its most formative years. Then...as I returned to my hotel room I would turn on the TV and sit and watch the nation debate the legitimacy of man-a man whose own ethnic heritage is the combination of all that is great about this country-to be President of these United States.
I was very emotional when I sat down to write the piece, Blood on the Ballot Box. It is my term, I have coined it and perhaps I heard it somewhere before but it was in the emotional state of my Williamsburg visit that I gave life to a poem that may very well define our moment-and the responsibility that we hold as citizens during this most critical time in our history...
My granddaddy said there is
Blood on the ballot box boy
Best not to take your right
So liberally
When you turn 18
Many laid down their lives
So you could be free
And that freedom may not be
Infinite-
So your only guarantee is to make sure
You are represented
In those nation conversations
Up there on the hill
It would be to your
Benefit
To pay close attention to current events
At least most of the time
Read both sides of the arguments
So you can pick through the lies
Delete the deceit
And develop a personal understanding
Of what America is supposed to be
America is supposed to be
Something different than what I see
At present
Seems we put war before diplomacy…
Got us losing little children
In the sandbox overseas
Seems our fear of terrorism has led us
To become that which we
Despise
Can’t tell me the amount of lives mistakenly
Taken during our occupation
Of sovereign nations
Not to mention the suspension of civil rights
For all those
At Guantanamo
Yes, there is blood on the ballot box boy
But seems we bleed black
Our people so addicted to oil our arms
Filled with tracks
Shooting up SUVs and luxury sedans
With that premium petro
While profits stack for the Exxons and BPs…
And you-
You have to choose to drive to work
Or eat
Merely survive or meet defeat
Must be blood on the ballot box boy
Homeowners homeless because
Banks bleeding families…
And they both dying off the sub-prime beast
That is eating its way through
Capitalism…
But who unleashed its wrath
Legs of the stock market so weak
The entire economy about to crash
And burn
Like the money you thought your
IRA would earn
So no one can retire and if you get fired
You join the millions
Already in line
Unemployment rates climb
High atop these mountains of debt
Half a trillion dollar deficit…
Weighs heavily on the taxpayers
Backs…
But there be blood on that ballot box boy
You best to know the facts
For you step inside the booth
Make sure the truth is not what you lack
This race is not about
Race…
Analyze the candidates
Study their platforms and agendas
Listen to the debates
Who is real, and who is the
Pretender?
But regardless of whom you choose
It is this you must remember
There is blood on the ballot box boy
Ancestors died to protect
The constitutional right for
You and I to select
Representatives dedicated to making
America what it is supposed to be-
Pray we do their blood justice
And rewrite our future history
Copyright 2008
I think the audience, the nation really, understands that concept better now than ever before. We are indebted to the ancestors, for it is their blood that was lost so we could gain-so we could have just this moment to seriously ponder a black man as our president. The fear in all this is that the race is far from over, and there are forces that will try to negate the power of this moment, and others that will try to reverse this tide of change. However, that which has been ordained by God, no man can deny.
Barack Obama...from great speech in '04, to longshot, to presumptive nominee, to party leader to this moment. The ride has been remarkable, but it is not simply his rise to party prominence and international notariety that I pay attention to but the emotions of our people...citizens of this democratic America whom are ready to make a difference in their country and the world. I do not think that it is ironic that I was in Williamsburg, Virginia for the entire week before the rally. I was assisting with a government fellows program entitled Excellence in Government, and our kickoff celebration was in the historic and presently colonial Williamsburg.
The beauty in the fact that I was there came in the form of past reality. In the term past reality, I mean that I was forced to examine the construction of this nation, in its most raw form. Slavery was discussed as a necessary-economic phenomenon in the same breath as equality of man. As I sat there inhaling the eloquence of the Declaration of Independence, I simultaneously thought of all my ancestors whose blood, sweat and tears held this nation up during its most formative years. Then...as I returned to my hotel room I would turn on the TV and sit and watch the nation debate the legitimacy of man-a man whose own ethnic heritage is the combination of all that is great about this country-to be President of these United States.
I was very emotional when I sat down to write the piece, Blood on the Ballot Box. It is my term, I have coined it and perhaps I heard it somewhere before but it was in the emotional state of my Williamsburg visit that I gave life to a poem that may very well define our moment-and the responsibility that we hold as citizens during this most critical time in our history...
My granddaddy said there is
Blood on the ballot box boy
Best not to take your right
So liberally
When you turn 18
Many laid down their lives
So you could be free
And that freedom may not be
Infinite-
So your only guarantee is to make sure
You are represented
In those nation conversations
Up there on the hill
It would be to your
Benefit
To pay close attention to current events
At least most of the time
Read both sides of the arguments
So you can pick through the lies
Delete the deceit
And develop a personal understanding
Of what America is supposed to be
America is supposed to be
Something different than what I see
At present
Seems we put war before diplomacy…
Got us losing little children
In the sandbox overseas
Seems our fear of terrorism has led us
To become that which we
Despise
Can’t tell me the amount of lives mistakenly
Taken during our occupation
Of sovereign nations
Not to mention the suspension of civil rights
For all those
At Guantanamo
Yes, there is blood on the ballot box boy
But seems we bleed black
Our people so addicted to oil our arms
Filled with tracks
Shooting up SUVs and luxury sedans
With that premium petro
While profits stack for the Exxons and BPs…
And you-
You have to choose to drive to work
Or eat
Merely survive or meet defeat
Must be blood on the ballot box boy
Homeowners homeless because
Banks bleeding families…
And they both dying off the sub-prime beast
That is eating its way through
Capitalism…
But who unleashed its wrath
Legs of the stock market so weak
The entire economy about to crash
And burn
Like the money you thought your
IRA would earn
So no one can retire and if you get fired
You join the millions
Already in line
Unemployment rates climb
High atop these mountains of debt
Half a trillion dollar deficit…
Weighs heavily on the taxpayers
Backs…
But there be blood on that ballot box boy
You best to know the facts
For you step inside the booth
Make sure the truth is not what you lack
This race is not about
Race…
Analyze the candidates
Study their platforms and agendas
Listen to the debates
Who is real, and who is the
Pretender?
But regardless of whom you choose
It is this you must remember
There is blood on the ballot box boy
Ancestors died to protect
The constitutional right for
You and I to select
Representatives dedicated to making
America what it is supposed to be-
Pray we do their blood justice
And rewrite our future history
Copyright 2008
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