With the disappointments realized with court rulings this past Summer, I decided to pull out and publish this poem that I wrote on October 3, 1995.
Brotha on the stand
Rope around his neck looking about as others are looking at him, looking to him, looking through him.
Others, next to the stand
Mindful, spirited, with one hand
toutin’ justice and righteousness
and one foot slowly edging closer
to kick that chair out from under.
It’s no wonder.
To let that twine stretch taut,
holding firm under that knot,
cease any further thought
towards (enter dub here) impurity.
Contamination in a day and age
less than four score from the pretty whore of truth –
When things were laid out simply,
as they should be.
So they agree.
Eyes teeming with hate
as the path struggled from one to the next “–ate”
(emancipate, proclamate, then copulate – the last straw).
We can falter no more!
Watch and wait.
Time, such a central theme, is still on its own –
this time bridled with unbridled passion, delation, and peppered oration –
towards nothing less than, if you permit, castration.
Come all, come one!
Gather round in this land of setting sun!
Cathode rays bringing happy days
and the spectacle of a pauper turned prince on belay.
Don’t dare turn away.
It’s been so long –
and no longer a cinch
to muster about and enjoy hence
a good Ol’e Fashioned…
Flinching – by the people of the State
– wait –
Do I hear betray?
From the clouds, a faint ray
on the lips of deliberates
coveting four quick ticks;
to hereby state, and foil
those with a history of ill will.
To be rendered deaf (on sealed ears)
and blind (on eyes already closed)
came to see…
So I agree.