Mile High
West of the Mississippi
Once the stronghold of the Sioux
A stranger swaggers by
His spirit glowing through and through
Inspired by a vision
A journey back in time
Where warriors were nurtured
And eagles soared miles high
A vivid apparition
Lodged deep within his mind
A people trapped in bondage
Reluctant witnesses to a tragic and staggering genocide
Voices in the distant
Wailing so profound
Until a silent whisper
Thundered from the clouds
………..“In the days my daddy wandered
Through concrete jungles
Thick with tundra
Vines of hate and blind resentments
Harvest tons of violent tensions
Clothes still soaked with perspiration
From crippling loads of wage-less labor
………. So master says…….
Dress your wounds and mourn your love ones
Hold on to faith and seek religion”…………..
He journeys back to the present
Focused, determine, motivated and inspired
Reaching down for the straps on his worn and dusty boots
As strategic social shackles stymies growth and desire
On each and every corner, every pulpit, and every soapbox
The onus of change is placed upon the victims
While the illusions of prosperity escapes the masses
The valiant are crucified and ridiculed for exposing the system
How do we repair the countless disorders that afflict us?
How do we heal wounds that have never been cleaned?
If we are truly citizens, are not all Americans responsible for our burdens?
How can we repair something that requires a national theme?
Our ills are America’s ills
Our failures are America’s failures
They are “the tragic result of slavery, racism, and segregation”
As so eloquently stated by Martin Luther King
This nation, built on the backs of slaves
Has a tremendous debt to its victims
Instead we have inspired legislation
For every other entity to manipulate the system
1.6 Billion in reparations to Japanese Americans
Casinos and Gambling right to the descendants of Native Americans
Over 3 Billion a year in aid to Israel
And Prison cells, institutionalize racism, and second class citizenship for African Americans
[...] Read more
poem by Mustafa Marconi
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