Give us words
to lift our hearts
Teach us so we may
have tools
and stories to tell
Show us kindness
so when the tables turn
we are not feeding you
the same scraps
Let us have our customs
and we will welcome
your ideas
Welcome us and it speaks
volumes more than glares
or silence.
If I don’t reach you
on my last day
before the grave,
you can protest here.
Nothing’s imminent.
Don’t blot mascara
with the blank
page.
I’m not the grandparent
offering water
at the border.
No aluminum blanket.
Your calls will be answered,
by Chet Baker,
in the order they are
perceived.
After the birthday
the death day
gets a turn
at the wheel.
Maybe future morbidity
is just a weather
report from
the ICE age.
I wish, and wish again
the meek inherited
some sort of love
the proud overlooked.
More at http://www.schmitbooks.com/.
Reach down
in this broken
world to the ragged
and help them
do not perpetuate
the distance
you find between
yourselves
do not purchase
that dream
of dust and dire
circumstances.
I awoke from my
living nightmare
into your American
dream
I sense a void
growing
wider each
passing day
A contempt
for this world
and forfeiture
of hope
This is as good
as it gets
and that’s not
good enough
For the sake
of the self
I lost
long ago
I wish to see
in my lifetime
the downfall
of a system
That’s bred
a multitude of
indifference
suffering
and disdain
To be replaced
by a new generation
of benevolent souls
Willing to be
the change
that is needed
The sacrifice
to benefit
the all
(For the Buguza Secondary School and its founder, Dr. Wanda Evans-Brewer.)
With pulled wings of a visionary
the eagle glides, touching lives
when the Tanzanian stars gathered their
blinks, revealing rich-flunged parts
of Buguza, when the nacarat sky
beyond the young school children
tweed for the early season’s rain
The eagle has taught them a lesson,
how to weave their future
into a formidable shape
to deep-burrow their ambitions
and build great structures for tomorrow
As delighted voices of a new Buguza
crackled like fresh foliage from the
sun
by a boisterous Ubuntu dance
while the blithful mothers ululate
clicking surrendering tongues ululating
She needs you
to notice, so go on
It’s okay to notice
It’s okay to love her
Just tell her once
she’s beautiful
like she needs you to
Just once
before it’s too late
Ever notice her
because I know you do
so make the most
of noticing.
Careful how they bite
with venom of lies
rumors and gossip, turn
your back, they’ve struck.
Better to sew your way
in light and kindness,
offering balm where needs
are than to be a serpent
tongue guarding a nest
of imagined control.