America: beaten black and blue

I saw three young men clad all in black

Except for bright white tennis shoes.

I’m rather pleased that my first thought

Was “They could use a fashion muse!”

No sense of dread came rising up

From deep within some hidden core

Of long forgotten biased fears.

No deeply planted racial lore.

Just three young men clad all in black

All wearing bright white sneakers

Out for a stroll this Saturday

Not some heartless violence seekers.

Perhaps they want more festive dress.

I pray they avoid unpleasantness.

The Novice and The Sage

Cried the novice out, in fear,

“The road is all down hill from here!

But thrice my age you are, at least

And yet, it seems you still find hope.

How have you slain this fearsome beast?”

Spake the sage, in voice most deep,

“When the hill you’re on is way too steep,

Must you never surrender hope.

You can always bend the curve

And, in so doing, change the slope.”

“But that would mean a longer path,

How ever will you get there fast?”

“Life’s not about a race to run;

It’s about a journey that can be fun!”

A Call to Action

A flag was flying inverted,
earlier today,
a symbol of distress.
“Do they know?” I wondered,
“or it is it simply
thoughtlessness?”
After all, this Nation is,
or so it seems to me,
made to labor in duress,
shackled to a legacy
of agony and heartlessness.
What can we do
to overcome
our broken
common history
of bondage and of shame?
For if we can’t achieve this goal,
our children’s lot
will be the same!
I, for one,
would rather not
leave my little boy
chained to all that suffering,
but have him finding joy.
I’m sure that I am not alone.
I’m sure that you would want that too.
Together shall we take an oath
to find, and do, what we can do?