Dr. King represented all that can be done to help all people realize their dreams. For this he was shot. You need not be a erudite, learned, supreme orator and culture-changing activist to get shot these days. In fact, all you gave to do is be African-American, all you have to be doing is walk outside. It increases your chances of being shot if you’re male, but, since such a large percentage of African-American males have been or are currently incarcerated, Cornell West is correct, the genocide is in creeping, but steady-as-the-tortoise-goes mode.
You need not be impoverished to empathize with the horrors of the underclass, nor shot at to realize that our militarized police have for a LONG TIME been out of control.
Status Quo was written in 1992 and applies in even more ways today. Haiku #312 is fresh, it was written Saturday.
The “Stuber Haiku” has lines of 3, 5 or 7 syllables, thus a bit of a stretch, as Japanese Haiku have the 5-7-5 syllable pattern and are three lines long .
In my form,the first and third stanzas are the exact same syllable count per line, in five lines. The second and forth also match. The last two are ALWAYS 3-7-3-5-5 in terms of syllables. The form is addicting so I don’t write too many these days,for fear of cranking a whole book’s worth. (Note “Open Secrets” – 2013 – Chonnam National Press, Gwangju, South Korea). SO here they are, after much ado.
Status Quo
For now the streets are cluttered:
The poor kill off the poor,
But this won’t last forever
If the “Quo” keeps getting worse.
Guns for sale in neighborhoods
Where crime is the only living
Quarts and vials and bullets
Take without ever giving.
“Innocent” bystanders
Are the ones to blame.
Standing by in times like these
Leaves everything the same.
The quo goes “living standards
Will be on the decline.”
While multi-national barons
Continue their money climb.
No chums around a fireplace
When you can’t pay the bills.
While money-man is traveling
In search of bigger thrills.
Sooner rather than later
The poor will raise their arms.
Replacing all the suited men
Regardless of the harm.
The system as we know it’
Is fading thanks to this:
The greedy haven’t realized
Their life ain’t worth a piss.
The ticking clock inside the bomb
Has passed the witching hour.
There is little hope for most,
So when will freedom flower?
It will when people with the time
Turn to lend a hand,
It will when greedy governors
Give back a hunk of land
The quo has made it possible
For us to live like rats.
Your life to them means nothing
You could end up a stat.
As the status quo gets worse
Violence rules the day.
We better help each other now.
Let us pray.
<><><><><><><><><><><
Stuber Haiku # 312
William walks hands in the air
praying to survive.
He’s unarmed,
terrorized by our
militarized police force.
“Stand back, get
down, hands behind your
back! “What did you say?”
“Don’t move an inch!” He
walks away, pocket knife in
hand, no threat, sixteen bullets
worth of dead, the new
dead; fascism lays
wide open for us to see,
yet Trump gains
followers, choices
all as bad, but one,
and he’s not gonna
get nominated, if you
follow me.
Driving while black changed. Walking
while black is
now a felony
punishable by
instant death.
Jump back privileged poet boy.
Words are not
enough, nor protests
nor votes. Unite now!
1/16/16 Weymouth, Southern Pines, NC, with Metta Sema Melvin as prompter.
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