Friday, May 2, 2008

It's Just Me

It's just me
I don't know who it is
I want to be
Right now it's just me
So please please let me be

Tears of Tomorrow

I have tears of sorrow for tomorrow
Another one leaves
and the grass will be greener
the leaves
because of the sorrows of tomorrows

Yes we had laughter
our times of together
but tomorrow
who knows where the many may road leads
I may open my eyes
and have tears inside
because tomorrow
you did not get out of bed
now you're another memory
in my head

I have tears for tomorrow
so I won't think of sorrow
and borrow every day
with a smile of your face
till I close my eyes there are no tears of tomorrows

Questions?

Have you ever really wanted to do something for humanity? To help someone with no strings attached and to just purely give something of worth to some else anonymously, in other words provide a pure act of kindness. Where such goodness goes sometimes trouble not only follows but attempts to be there waiting. The Devil Is a Busy Man.

A man wanted to give assistance to a couple that was experiencing a financial hardship. His one request was for the donation to remain anonymous. The male recipient had discovered who he thought the donor was. He contacted the donor and through a phone conversation had discovered he was correct. It was the donor's curiosity of how the money would be used that revealed his identity to the recipient. It was the donor's, "unconscious and seemingly, natural, automatic ability to both deceive myself and other people, which, on the 'motivational level,' not only completely emptied the generous thing I tried to do of any true value, and caused me to fail, again, in my attempts to sincerely be what someone would classify as truly a 'nice' or 'good' person"

The motivation to perform "good works" was marred by the need to know or offer advice as to what might be done with the money. The "common law" couple had a newborn baby and were bombarded with debt and medical bills. So when the male recipient called the temptation was too great not to ask questions that revealed the donor's identity. Was it a slip of thought by the donor or was it deliberately done? After all the donor had rehearsed what he might say if someone called him about the "diverged funds." If the disclosure was deliberately done then he did perform "good works" for the couple but not in the purest since of the word. Didn't the donor intentionally reveal himself? Does that then call into question his true intentions? Was he really being generous or was he trying to show himself in a good "light?" Was there really sincerity on the donor's part?

Which Celebration?

How funny the poem Flight to Canada was. Ishmael Reed uses the broken dialect of the slave in combination with the historical facts and modern day technology to may fun of the slave master why celebrating the freedom of a runaway slave named Quickskill. The combination of which leaves you laughing and celebrating while reading the letter Flight to Canada.

The former slave Quickskill had leaped to Canada. "I have done my Liza Leap & am safe in the arms of Canada, so Ain't no use your Slave Catchers waitin on me At Trailways I won't be there" (Ll. 3-8) Quickskill has not only ran away North but to Canada where the Slave Catchers can not legally retrieve him. Then he "flew in non-stop Jumbo jet this A.M. Had Champagne Compliments of the Cap'n" (Ll. 10-13) He ran all the way to Canada without any events from the Slave Catchers and then celebrated by sipping on champagne. He traveled "in style" (l. 22) Even the best bred Negro catching dogs could not travel with him. "Besides, your Negro dogs Of Hays & Allen stock can't fly" (Ll. 26-28)

Quickskill was a frequent flyer. He had flew back and forth to Canada three or four times. "Yellow Judas Cato done tole You that I have snuck back to The plantation 3 maybe 4 times" (Ll. 30-33) The mulatto favored house snitch had probably told the Massa that Quick skill had been back and forth to the plantation. While he was at the plantation he made love with his prime slave in the Masa's slave bed. Then Quickskill tricked the Massa's wife into giving him some money from the safe. "Your employees won't miss It & I accept it as a Down payment on my back Wages." (Ll. 60-63) He mocks and ridicules the Massa by referring to the slaves as his employees.

The letter is ended with Quickskill informing the Massa the whiskey he was drinking while reading the letter had been poisoned by him. Quickskill had won his freedom and found a way to abolish his captor as well. When does evil become so bad that the only way to abolish it is by killing. In the letter you are cheering for Quickskill so much that you may even find yourself celebrating Massa's doom.

A Life Yet Determined by the Wife

What do you do for a living? That is a general question that will arise during a conversation at a social gathering. In the year 2008 unless you live in Utah the answer Housewife will get you mixed reviews. Just what does a Housewife do? Well there is a endless list on chores, responsibilities, and duties to complete. The list could continue on far past laundry sheets.

I am not making lite of woman who stay home. I believe that a stay at home parent is the best way to raise children. It is the role of women and mothers that I am questioning. In the poem Housewife it clearly says, "Some women marry houses." (l. 1) A house is an object that can not give the emotional love in return. You can live and work in a house. One can make the arguement that it's not a house but a home of warmth and comfort where love is experienced.

However in this case a house is an object that can be loved but not love back. The woman married a house. The man is is vow of any (kind) emotion. In fact the only male interaction is by force. She is trapped in the belly of a whale and her fate is that of doom. Only God can save her. The one redeeming thought is "A woman is her mother, That's the main thing." (Ll. 9-10) Or is it a redeeming thought. Has her mother taught her this is her lot in life to be a Housewife or a house wife? One could be life of misery the other could be a life yet determined by the wife.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

No Good Tomorrows

The lost of life in a violent way is always tragic. When the lost of life is one of the "good ones" then hopelessness and sorrow seems all the deeper. It appears the older I get, the closer I come to knowing the regret of an unicorn. Legend says an unicorn can only know regret once it has loved and lost that love. With death comes sorrow. The death of a Queen brings greater sorrow when for her there are no good tomorrows.

When God sends people like the Queen of Sunday to live here on earth their very existence is special. Their life is purposeful in bringing about a positive change. "Lord's lost Him His mockingbird, His fancy warbler, Satan sweet-talked her, Four bullets hushed her." (Ll. 1-4)

Why such violence? One bullet in heart was enough to kill the Queen but four bullets were shot to suffice the evil deed. The evil hatred of the killer(s) to silence the Queen. "Oh who and oh who will sing Jesus down to help with struggling and doing without and being colored all through blue Monday? Till way next Sunday?" (Ll. 10-13) A vast emptiness is left by the Queen. She fulfilled a role that no one else could. The good dear sister, yes she was a Queen in the church.

Yes ,"all those angels are surely weeping." (l. 18) They were weeping because of what the Queen had done. Perhaps it was more than bullets that caused her to fall from the throne. The great singer had sinned and "The gold works wrecked." (l. 21) "But she looks so natural in her big bronze coffin among the Broken Hearts and Gates-Ajar, it's as if any moment she'd lift her head" (Ll.22-24) Some sins are masked that only the angels and God knows. While we are alive repentance remains available. The lifting of her head might refer to the sinner's ability to lift one's eyes to God for forgiveness. The great mourning of the Queen is that perhaps she died in sin and thus for her there are no good tomorrows.

She, too, was America

Langston oh Langston what I can say
Langston's poetry seems to know
what I say
Perhaps it is because of the life I have seen
Dogs biting, killings, bombings, murders lynchings
the undereducated
they all scream
This is the life
I have seen

I am singing right along with Langston in I, Too. My grandmother was a nanny maid. She caught two maybe three buses to the suburbs where she cooked, cleaned, and cared for little loved ones. She scrubed floors on her hands and knees after serving her home made tea cakes to the company of the family she worked for. I do believe they were probably the best tea cakes in this part of Ohio. She ate in the kitchen and had a laugh that through memory can still make me chuckle.

I remember the day my oldest child graduated from the middle school that my grandmother's children where never allowed to attend because of the color of their skin. Adorned with her pill box hat on her head and wearing her best Sunday dress, Mama as I called her was the center of attention as she entered into the auditorium. She sat front, center, and as proud as can be because now she, too , was America and nobody dare say a thing.