Points of View

"I don't like your point of view.

I can't change minds, so I'll change you."

That's pretty much what's it's all about,

it's just what both sides do.

You say you don't like my opinion.

I think your facts are all pure fiction,

hid behind your bombast diction.

Bogus - quite like you.

We never stop to consider

the verbal barrages we deliver

as nothing more than common litter;

temporary - as the dew.

Words unleashed as deadly arrows

cut just as quickly to the marrow.

It could be "we" who's hurt tomorrow;

take care in what we do.....

Photo of Salton Sea in California.

Losing me.....

I'm not half as funny as I used to be,

"Just not quite me",

some might say.

But, I'm not twice as loony as I ought to be,

due to some things, you see

which came my way.

I just try and take it day by day,

and still have my say,

and often do.

The hardest part to do is to hang on to you,

and then ask you to

not slip away......

Last Word to My Father

Would that I could,

but can't so I won't

It's not like I don't want to,

it's simply that I don't

meet your expectations,

so, i had to stop from trying.

It's the only way I had to cope,

and keep myself from crying.

"One Righteous Man" by Arthur Browne (2015)

This book is a by product of Langston Hughes unpublished biography of Samuel Battle, New York City's first African-American policeman. Hughes was working on a number of projects at the time he accepted this assignment to co-author Samuel Battle's autobiography in the late 1940's.

The author, Arthur Browne, gives all credit to Mr. Hughes where applicable. He has also created a multi layered story of the history of racism in the ranks of Civil Servants in the last days of the 19th Century as well as into the 20th.

Racism wasn't confined to the South as you may have been taught in school. It was rampant in the North as well. Sometimes more oblique ways perhaps, but at other times it was as brutal as the lynchings were.

One of the more enjoyable aspects of reading this was  authors skillful weaving of the history of those times along with Samuel Battle's own story.  It gives great depth to the the narrative. It helps the reader in understanding the systemic racism Mr. Battle was forced to tackle in order to be what he aspired to be. It is also a great history of  one particular street in Harlem which was like a "Doctor's Row", in that many of the most educated  and affluent of the ciiy's African-Americans lived there. 

Today there is a small plaza dedicated to him outside City Hall. But, in reality, no plaza could ever be large enough to hold the spirit of Samuel Battle. This is the story of that man. It is also the story of his vision and how he achieved it.

Another Birthday!

Looks like another birthday,

another year slipped by.

I'm closer to the end

but not prepared to die.

There's too much left to read and write,

and letters left to send.

I want to stick around awhile

and see how this play ends!

Bookless

Books on shelves lining walls, tucked in nooks and filling stalls.
One day they'll be gone, so we'll all be reading from our phones.

I miss the paper, miss the smell, of books and ink and words which tell
stories, poems, and news as well. I fear they'll soon be gone.

I love the feel of turning pages, traveling back through distant ages,
reading wise words from the sages. And all things written down.

Knowledge came in stages, and I fear that without pages
It will all be subject to changes. Things of import, ought be writ in stone....

Poor Pumpkin

GDG

The pumpkin looks quite nervous.

And he has good reason why.

It's his first time in this position,

and he's really very shy.

GCDG

But the other cause of his distress-

and when I tell you this you'll cry-

He's heard Thanksgiving's coming,

and he's heard of pumpkin pie!

GD  DCG

Poor pumpkin, poor pumpkin,

Makes you want to cry.
Poor pumpkin, poor pumpkin,
Bound for pumpkin pie!

GD DCG
Poor pumpkin, poor pumpkin,
Nothing he can do.
Poor pumpkin, poor pumpkin,
Glad that I'm not you!

Photo plagirized from a post by Batton Lash.