Today at d’Verse, Laura reminded us that this is the 9th day fo the 9th month. She asked us to write write a nine line poem in iambic pentameter. This is my attempt. I am not sure if it is correct, but hopefully it is close.
I wrote this poem almost ten years ago. Thinking about the 4th of July and what independence day really means, I realized that it is all in the perspective from which it is viewed. It may be uncomfortable to look back at history the way it really was and know that for many generations, equality was nowhere to be found. A lot has changed in the last ten years, but inequality still exists in our nation. What will you and your children do to bring about change for the common good?
When all the fireworks fade into ashes
And the Bar-B-Que grills have cooled.
When the wide eyes of the children close in blissful sleep
Do you ever wonder what Independence Day really means…
To the ancestors of African slaves brought here in the holds of ships
Who look back at our forefather who bought and sold them,
Forefathers who wrote, “all men are created equal,”
And realize, the dark ones were not included.
In the words of, Thomas Jefferson, “less than human…”
Or, perhaps, to the Native Americans who loved the free and open spaces
Only to be run off their lands, pushed into the deserts,
Left where summer heat scorched them
And winter snows chilled them to the bone,
Where animals were few and crops refused to grow…
Were they a part of “All men are created equal?”
No, in the words of our former Presidents,
“They were just savages… they were less than human.”
Or, perhaps, to the ‘”Illegal Aliens” who scrub our floors,
Pick our fruits and vegetables, build our houses,
And mow our lawns and mulch our shrubs,
Are they part of “All men are created equal?”
No, in the words of many of us, “They are just ‘wetbacks,’”
Nameless illegals, “…Who should be sent back where they came from.”
Though we may not say it, some of us think they too are less than human.
How quickly we forget the dark side…
How soon we lay aside our guilt, insult, and pain…
We rise as a flower in the sidewalk crack,
Stepped on over and over again,
Yet, we rise and bloom from the strength of our roots.
Independence Day is a time to “Bloom”…
To draw from the strength of our roots… not to forget, but to move on
To all that we can become, in a land where in God’s eyes,
Sunday is the 100th anniversary of Armistice Day, when fighting ceased, bringing an end to WWI. It was called the war to end all wars, but sadly we see conflicts and wars continue throughout the world. Some say war is Hell and I would tend to agree. Many brave soldiers lost their lives on the battlefield. The horrific atrocities that occurred were unimaginable. Our leaders have not learned from our past. The division in our country can only lead to further conflict in our own back yard. We must learn how to agree to disagree and move beyond our personal power trips. We must stop sending our best young people to slaughter in ongoing wars of our own making.
Armistice Day ink
Brings an end to bloody war
November snow falls
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Roth Poetry 