Monday, January 27, 2014

Katrina: Ancestral Call


Louis Armstrong, your trumpet must be blowing
For the anguish of your people.
Sarah Vaughn, please moan for those who can’t seem
To utter a sound.
Duke Ellington, let your hands run across the keys
To tinkle the sound of tears from those lost in starvation.
Lady Day, cry out in soft tones
As you did when you sang “Bitter Fruit.”
There was bitter fruit in New Orleans
As folks begged for food and hung in lines for hours.
Count Basie, play those chords and hum along,
To soothe the anguish of Motherless children.

Saints of New Orleans, march down those muddy streets,
Playing your instruments to cleanse the toxicity
Of racism and neglect.
Play hard and loud in your funeral march
To comfort those bodies who lay on the street for days.
All musicians who have gone from the French Quarter
To a better place beyond,
Spread a blanket of comfort for those who still remain,
Like Fats Domino, who had to be carried out to safety.

Martin and Malcolm, lead us out to find a better life,
And remind us when we become complacent.
Medgar Evers and Fannie Lee Hamer, give us the Word
To stand before the delegates and say, “We must be heard!”
W. E. B. Dubois and Frederick Douglas, remind us to stand up
And orate and record our history
So this will not be forgotten!
Sojourner and Phyllis Wheatley, lead us to freedom
And help us create the poem that says,
“We can’t be turned around!”
Help us to bring forth those who will stand tall.

We need warriors to come forth and say,
“We will not allow our bodies to be stacked up again
  as our ancestors were in ships.”
We need children and young people to walk forward and say,
“We want the best education and we need nurturing so
  we can grow to be strong adults to fight the system bravely.”
We need allies: Black and White, Native and Latina, Asian and East Indian, Gay and Straight, Rich and Poor, to stand together and say,
“We see the the Racism and we will not allow it to happen
          anymore!"
"We see it and our eyes can’t be closed any longer!”
“We see the poor and disenfranchised and we will not allow 
  that anymore!"
“We will pull together so that All people will be free!”
“All men and women will have quality of life and will not be  
   ignored and treated with disrespect!"          

We need to stand together and march forth
To show the strength of our convictions and shout,
No more!  No more!  You will do this to us no more!
This time it’s out there, and you can’t sweep it under the rug
Of power and greed.
It won’t stay under there anymore!
This must NEVER happen again!
No more!  No more!

© Hilda Ward, 2014

New Orleans residents beside the road, waiting to be rescued after Hurricane Katrina
Photo by Jocelyn Augustino/FEMA
from Wikimedia Commons

Monday, January 20, 2014

Looking Skyward in the Pantheon


You never took it for granted,
the Rotunda—no matter that you passed it
daily on your way to Mincer’s Pipe Shop
or the University Diner for grilleds and ice cream—
no matter that you and the Team once
suspended a garbage can and blue flag
flaunting a giant brassiere
atop the flagpole just in front—
no matter that you and Henry Taylor
explored its innards at 2:00 A.M.
through passages long since locked— 

once standing beneath that awesome dome
you felt yourself in sacred space.

And now, walking into the Pantheon,
you feel that familiar weight, and more.
Even without a guidebook, you see
the perfect symmetry of the dome
above the cube—sense the lunar cycle
of the twenty-eight coffers
in each row—find yourself in the path
of the god’s eye centered above you,
even after eighteen centuries
still unwindowed and open to the rain.

What manner of worship or sacrifice
took place here, you do not know,
but your heart bypasses all doubts
and mysteries. A-tremble
beneath this manmade sky, you find yourself
going to your knees, no matter 
what god puts you there.

© David Black, 2014

The Rotunda at UVA
Photo posted on Flickr, modified by Ben Lunsford
Wikimedia Commons

Monday, January 13, 2014

Our Saviors


Animals save the world.
Animals uphold the world.
We kill the world.
We weigh it down.
We, pleased with ourselves,
Condescend to be kind to our pets
Whose salubrious, acrobatic, untiring silliness
Wisens us, cheers the sacred stone called Earth
And makes heavy Death forgetful.

Yes, the gabby globe is supported
On the back of an unboastful undying tortoise.
The worthy tortoise is supported
On the patient but unslavish
Castle-like back of a long-tusked elephant.
The long-tusked elephant is supported
By a blue never-harpooned whale.
The whale is supported
By a scholarly dragon.
Supporting these heroes
Is an untagged but inexplicably dependable cat.
She knows naught about size and weight.
She is a student of sleep
And experiments with play.
These healthy animals enjoy gamma rays
But they are not fanatics.
This may or may not be in our favor.


© Stephen Margulies, 2014


Cats, tortoise, and sea creatures
Painting by Jan van Kessel, senior
from Wikimedia Commons








Monday, January 6, 2014

Seafarer


Old salts surviving the rough
seas of progressive disease,
we’d anchor, plan escape
whenever a new symptom
thundered in the distance.

In dawn of clear-sky hope,
we would pretend full sails
to that undiscovered isle
with exotic cures to halt
the attacks on your brain.

The latest weather report
tosses me into unknown
murky waters, head struggling
to stay above prognosis,
to avoid threatening rocks.

Test results disorient –
old nautical charts useless
in new, more dangerous storms,
dead reckoning impossible,
no previous markers matter.

I have lost my old bearings,
fresh assaults sting distressed eyes,
I try to steady my gaze
at sea level, hope horizon
reveals a way to navigate.

© Patsy Asuncion, 2013

Ships in a Raging Storm, c. 1690
by Ludolf Backhuysen
Rijksmuseum Amsterdam
from Wikimedia Commons