April 4th, 2015 North Charleston, South Carolina
Weather forecast called for weather in the mid to upper 70’s,
But a new low front was ushered in under guise of hate
I checked the forecast but it said nothing of despair.
It said nothing of the wrenching guts or the tearing of the hair.
It didn’t think to warn, on the balmy day in spring,
Just how much that father would be sacrificing
Because he bought a brand new car, a Mercedes, shiny clean
But like a beacon to the racist rants it attended glaring screams
A cell phone captured video of the systematic lies
Told by Walter Scott’s murderer that watched that human die.
No remorse, no regret, just a planted Taser laid near blood
Deny what crime your hands committed, deny the hateful flood
But truth is not as fickle as the weather we predict
The rules are far less flexible, in fact, they’re rather fixed.
When will you foolish humans learn, LOVE ALWAYS WINS, not hate.
April 4th, in Memphis on a balcony, 1968
NaPoWriMo
Mare Martell 
Difficult subject matter handled bravely and with skill.
Try this one: https://maremartell.com/2014/07/19/real-time/
And yet people deny there is a problem with racism in this day and age
I see it in my neighborhood dripping the blood of children into the gutters. I see it in the disparaging differentiation between white folk, rich white folk, and those other people. It disgusts me to no end to consider that nearly 50 years has passed and nothing has changed except the mouths telling us we’re all equal. Lies we buy into because we want to believe it’s true. But we all know it’s not. We all know my little friend George may not come home one night because he happened to pull his hood up on his jacket at the wrong time. It breaks my heart and raises my voice in protest.
WOW ! that was sooo powerful!!!! XXX
Thank you. The United We Stand post that should pull up on the top has a link to a song for freedom that I wrote with my friend Laura Davis. The article has a link in it at the beginning. I wrote the lyrics for it. I hope you’ll give it a listen. Laura, the musician, is scary talented with a smokey barroom voice that brews like a cup of coffee, warm and tantalizing. Give it a swirl.
The only chance we have, is for love to win. I read your gut wrenching poem, then went & read the news of this event, tragic.
I heard about it because my Pastor posted the article. (I don’t have, nor have time for, television.) I can’t watch the “news” without hurting. To me it’s worse than any “chick” flick designed to be emotionally manipulative. The anger, the rage, the hate, the bigotry…I feel like I fell asleep for a few decades, like we haven’t moved forward. As for me and my house, we choose and will always choose love. I will not bow to the gods of the golden calf. Love MUST win. Thank you so much for listening to my rant and for showing me there are people willing to stand for love.