There is life here.
There is death here
and promises of more...
There is life here.
Anyone hearing this is breathing,
maybe hurtin' but breathing for sure
If there is any light to come
it will shine from the eyes of those
who look for peace
and justice
after the rubble and rhetoric are cleared
and the phoenix has risen.
Affirm life. Affirm life
we got to carry each other now
you are either with life or against it.
Affirm life.
- Suheir Hamed, Def Poetry
I don't know what I want to write here. I've been watching the first season of Def Poetry (somebody somewhere get me some of the other seasons) and you just gotta love words. The power of words and I love. I love words. So rather than sentences that I cannot figure how to make come together, here are a few words about today.
there is life here
(title inspired by Suheir Hamed)
the problem house on the block
causes problems
and has problems too
sitting on the porch
a crack addict one month clean
former heroin addict
drinking a beer
the mother of an army veteran
who served three years in Iraq
two in Afghanistan
who enlisted right out of school
over twenty years ago
do people see the mother
when they see her?
she sleeps on the couch
in her granddaughter's
section 8 home
barely able to contain
the kids
their energy
their needs
their wants
a boy
sharp-eyed and attentive
inquisitive and verbal
with the arm broken
off his eyeglasses
I almost want to cry
I write down
"homemaker"
and "retired"
as occupations of the household members
next door.
the scent of smoke
not cigarettes
I've never smoked enough
to know the scents
like some know the scents
I have no sense.
should we knock?
every door.
every door.
problem doors
have problems too.
there is no answer.
next door.
a recent oakland tech graduate
not quite like piedmont
she says of the high school
just over a few blocks
where the teachers care more
have more
do more
but graduated nonetheless
she is readying for a trip on Friday
to play basketball for Missouri
learned and earned her way out of Oakland
but didn't demonstrate
with teachers and students
for better schools
it didn't do any good anyway
why miss class?
saw no irony in leaving to study
criminal justice
justice
I leave the teenager
with words that I remember
that I have written down
so I would remember
she leaned forward when I said,
"Martin Luther King said,"
and I hope she heard it
where and how she needed to hear it
"We will remember not the words of our enemies
but the silence of our friends."
Next door.
a strong, gentle, aware,
muslim mother
5 months older than me
born on my grandma's birthday
she wants to leave this city
she wants to change this city
she knows some of the answers
but knowing she could not knock
on neighbor's doors
not after this weekend
the assassination of a reporter
a bakery raided
young men arrested
only three charged
where are the others?
Where are the other Muslim men?
The Patriot Act.
Nobody has to tell us.
Is this the U.S.?
And knowing
7 other deaths
this weekend
it's on the minds
it's in the hearts
and it aches
and she looks at her 13 year old son.
What will the Patriot Act
do to him in America?
What will happen
to the children
here in Oakland?
Here in the war?
My head hurts
and it aches
and my feet
aren't tired enough
to stop walking
my ears have not heard
enough to stop listening.
Next door.
Next door.
Before I left
to come back here
reading the news
of this past weekend
my husband asked,
"You still want to go back?"
"Back into the war zone,"
I say with a sort of grin.
But I know
the war zone is outside my door too
and it has taken a long time
for the war to move
outside
my door
It has taken even longer
for the war
to move
outside
my heart
So, next door
one door at a time
The 62 year old mother
whose son age 42
(the answer to the universe)
started using drugs 14 years ago
when his father died
and she works hard
to not be codependent
to give him a place to stay
but no money in his pocket
to flush shit
in his veins
or through a pipe
and she hits the floor
at the sound of bullets
and it will never change
she says
and there is no hope
and it is not that I set
out to prove her wrong
it is that I walk faster
and listen harder
to show the gratitude I feel
for her.
Thank you for showing
what will happen to me
if I close the door
to the war zone
outside
and act like
it won't find its way in.
Next door.
Next door.
Two teachers.
A lawyer.
Next door.
Next door.
You never know
when the next door
might be filled
with light
might let some
light shine in.
You never know until
you knock
on the next door.
and promises of more...
There is life here.
Anyone hearing this is breathing,
maybe hurtin' but breathing for sure
If there is any light to come
it will shine from the eyes of those
who look for peace
and justice
after the rubble and rhetoric are cleared
and the phoenix has risen.
Affirm life. Affirm life
we got to carry each other now
you are either with life or against it.
Affirm life.
- Suheir Hamed, Def Poetry
I don't know what I want to write here. I've been watching the first season of Def Poetry (somebody somewhere get me some of the other seasons) and you just gotta love words. The power of words and I love. I love words. So rather than sentences that I cannot figure how to make come together, here are a few words about today.
there is life here
(title inspired by Suheir Hamed)
the problem house on the block
causes problems
and has problems too
sitting on the porch
a crack addict one month clean
former heroin addict
drinking a beer
the mother of an army veteran
who served three years in Iraq
two in Afghanistan
who enlisted right out of school
over twenty years ago
do people see the mother
when they see her?
she sleeps on the couch
in her granddaughter's
section 8 home
barely able to contain
the kids
their energy
their needs
their wants
a boy
sharp-eyed and attentive
inquisitive and verbal
with the arm broken
off his eyeglasses
I almost want to cry
I write down
"homemaker"
and "retired"
as occupations of the household members
next door.
the scent of smoke
not cigarettes
I've never smoked enough
to know the scents
like some know the scents
I have no sense.
should we knock?
every door.
every door.
problem doors
have problems too.
there is no answer.
next door.
a recent oakland tech graduate
not quite like piedmont
she says of the high school
just over a few blocks
where the teachers care more
have more
do more
but graduated nonetheless
she is readying for a trip on Friday
to play basketball for Missouri
learned and earned her way out of Oakland
but didn't demonstrate
with teachers and students
for better schools
it didn't do any good anyway
why miss class?
saw no irony in leaving to study
criminal justice
justice
I leave the teenager
with words that I remember
that I have written down
so I would remember
she leaned forward when I said,
"Martin Luther King said,"
and I hope she heard it
where and how she needed to hear it
"We will remember not the words of our enemies
but the silence of our friends."
Next door.
a strong, gentle, aware,
muslim mother
5 months older than me
born on my grandma's birthday
she wants to leave this city
she wants to change this city
she knows some of the answers
but knowing she could not knock
on neighbor's doors
not after this weekend
the assassination of a reporter
a bakery raided
young men arrested
only three charged
where are the others?
Where are the other Muslim men?
The Patriot Act.
Nobody has to tell us.
Is this the U.S.?
And knowing
7 other deaths
this weekend
it's on the minds
it's in the hearts
and it aches
and she looks at her 13 year old son.
What will the Patriot Act
do to him in America?
What will happen
to the children
here in Oakland?
Here in the war?
My head hurts
and it aches
and my feet
aren't tired enough
to stop walking
my ears have not heard
enough to stop listening.
Next door.
Next door.
Before I left
to come back here
reading the news
of this past weekend
my husband asked,
"You still want to go back?"
"Back into the war zone,"
I say with a sort of grin.
But I know
the war zone is outside my door too
and it has taken a long time
for the war to move
outside
my door
It has taken even longer
for the war
to move
outside
my heart
So, next door
one door at a time
The 62 year old mother
whose son age 42
(the answer to the universe)
started using drugs 14 years ago
when his father died
and she works hard
to not be codependent
to give him a place to stay
but no money in his pocket
to flush shit
in his veins
or through a pipe
and she hits the floor
at the sound of bullets
and it will never change
she says
and there is no hope
and it is not that I set
out to prove her wrong
it is that I walk faster
and listen harder
to show the gratitude I feel
for her.
Thank you for showing
what will happen to me
if I close the door
to the war zone
outside
and act like
it won't find its way in.
Next door.
Next door.
Two teachers.
A lawyer.
Next door.
Next door.
You never know
when the next door
might be filled
with light
might let some
light shine in.
You never know until
you knock
on the next door.
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