You are currently browsing the daily archive for May 19, 2006.

There’s an echo against the cliff

below the castle where the sand is

wet with tears, seaweed

a faded shade of brown.  A tide-driven froth

coats my bare white feet.

Beachcombers in lingering shadows

rummage through fragments. The only light

is an orange moon.

The tide is green.

 

. . . Listen, listen.

All dreamers hear sounds, whispered by shells.

Some hear the Atlantic as she softly moans.

While the story travels, up, riding the flotsam

and sea foam, and slowly unfolds,

the trees near the ocean’s edge hint at

what happened.

 

Yes, they only hint,

but oh!  Oh, at the point of departure,

how the spirits speak!  Sounds like

horrible groans.  Sounds.

Like the rattle of chains.  Sounds.

Listen.  Listen hard.  For the voice of the echo

is joined to the cliff by salty tears,

the tears who married that dark, dark sand.

 

The bones of kings,

who last saw Ghana as they

sailed away, crossing the vast and silver water,

are preserved by salt and have settled,

though probed now by small, mean fish,

several fathoms deep on the ocean floor,

where the whole world is as black as it was—

in the hold of the slaver’s ship.

 

first published in Independence Boulevard

“Nonviolence is absolute commitment to the way of love.  Love is not an emotional bash; it is not empty sentimentalism.  It is active outpouring of one’s whole being into the being of another.”

 

—Martin Luther King Jr., 1957.

“The curse of poverty has no justification in our age. . . . The time has come for us to civilize ourselves by the total, direct and immediate abolition of poverty.”

 

—Martin Luther King Jr.,  Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community?, 1967.

In the midst of a world filled with big, important issues, it is easy to forget a single act of kindness, but the small acts of love and friendship are the ones that truly inspire.  This week my friend Steve created a web page for me to showcase some of my work.  He purposely chose poems and an essay that are not political.  One poem concerns basketball, one the desire for success, and a third the beauty of a night at the beach.

Steve writes and sells software deisgned to help writers of novels and short stories.  Check out Writer's Harbor Software.  And thank you, Steve.

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