Color Collective Poem

Benjamin Moore Cocoa Brown 2101-20

the sweet jazz music as I walk down the alley

the Jazz flowing through their blood

huge grins on their faces

the scent of chicken so good I can almost taste it

dilapidated houses

fathers home from

a tough day at work

but they don't care

smiles on their faces

the jazz in the background the sweet oh so sweet melodic tunes

the music talks in my ears

the strumming of the guitar ever so gently

I can feel the pain and all their sorrows

through the sweet melodic tones.

the pain on their face

the only way they can express themselves

Once its over the huge grin returns 

no worries anymore

children running around

the rhythmical bouncing of the basketball

thump thump thump

the rattle of the chains when somebody scores

superficially its happy and calm

but underneath the music and all the smiles

lies sorrow and pain

But why

why o why

do we discriminate against our fellow brothers

we are all equal

in the eyes of our creator

we are all endowed

with certain unalienable rights

that cannot

should not be tampered with

and why o why

do we look down upon our brothers

why do we fear them without knowing

is it that we fear them

or we fear the unknown 

Why do we look down upon them

or do we just envy them

envy their abilities

their endless talents

their people

from Langton Hughes ability to play and use words

to Duke Ellington’s ability to make his music flow ever so beautifully 

Yet the African American culture is rich 

5th avenue and 135th street hold more history

 more dreams, hopes, laughs

more pain than most America

it holds rejection, poverty, drugs

yet still richer than Beverly Hills

I come across a small kid

left there alone, it pains my heart to see him

its the survival of the fittest here

its eat or be eaten I do what I can

I toss him a coin its clings on the ground

before he reaches for it

his eyes lighten up at the sight of it

he clutches it close to his chest

like gold 

As I walk

I hear people talking

talking their slang

talking their culture

shouting and chanting

their proud words

I see people praying

bending over and asking for help

hot tears roll down their cheeks

hands up in the air

singing the words of god

singing louder and louder

their powerful and ever so sweet voices

their faces light up as they shout hallelujah

in the name of god


For more poems go to http://middlemindz.blogspot.com/2012/05/choose-benjamin-moore-paint-color-and.html

Where I'm From

I am from Bananas and Tangos.

 I am from sweltering sunny days

 and white sandy beaches. 

I am from exotic plants(So many I can not recall) 

I am from saturday night movies

 and Risk every other day. 

From Malecon 2000 

my heart beats faster every time I’m near it. 

I am from Ale que Chevere and my Caleta. 

I am from he changed me

and made me a better person.

 From Sundays night only means one thing. 

I am from the big city of Guayaquil 

where its eat or be eaten

 and from you’d better watch your back.

 I am from Seco De Pollo 

 and Pan de Yuca. 

From Mom’s passionate hugs

 and from logical debates with dad. 

I am from picture books of my youth, 

which will always be treasured and enjoyed.

I am from political unrest

and the corruption of Ecuador

to the political soundness of Switzerland  

Into the Wonderful Wind

 

selected by Alejandro Guerrero

Description

Poets have an ability of capturing certain climates and making  you feel as if you were there, experiencing the beauty of it all. I wanted to chose poems that capture the identity of the majestic and mesmerizing time of winter , as well as poems that capture the essence of hearth and of home. From those small moments; siting inside huddled up drinking hot chocolate and playing a board game to playing in the snow and taking in the beauty of nature's doing.

Synopsis

A collection of Winter Wonderland poems, as well as  poems that capture the essence of hearth and that really define the majestic time of winter.

       Poetry

• Winter Heavens  by George Meredith
• Winter  by Walter De La Mare
• Winter is good - his Hoar Delights (1316)  by Emily Dickinson
• Winter Trees  by William Carlos Williams
• Now Winter Nights Enlarge by Thomas Campion
• Horoscope by  Maureen N. McLane
• Winter-Time by Robert Louis Stevenson
• Winter Morning by William Jay Smith
• Toward the Winter Solstice by Timothy Steele 

Death by Color

A seventeen-year-old walks out at night looking to buy a pack of skittles, the consequence- his life. Trayvon Martin was a regular African American kid, but in the eyes of George Zimmerman he was a threat, he was a threat because he was black, because he chose to wear a hoodie. George Zimmerman, a self appointed neighborhood watch admitted he killed Trayvon Martin, yet; he still isn’ behind bars. Stop and think for a second, do you think that is right do you think that Trayvon deserved his life to be taken, just because he was black or because he looked “suspicious” and George Zimmerman isn't even in jail because of the Florida law which protects him because he said that he was acting in self defense. 

If you take the time to look deep enough into this incident you can see that Trayvon Martins death was caused by prejudice. I am willing to bet that if Trayvon was white George Zimmerman wouldn’t of followed him around and ultimately shot and killed him. I am also willing to bet that if it were a black man who shot a white boy the black man would already be in jail as we speak. Prejudice leads to injustice even in the smallest circumstances. Even I myself admit that when I walk down a street and I see a black man dressed poorly or when I see a Middle Eastern man some ideas cross my mind, but even so does that give me the right to shoot them? Does it give me the right to do anything to them just because of the way the look. Why judge them by there appearance and not by there actions? ask yourself; is it fair to judge a race by the action of a few people? It is not right, that is not what I call justice.

We as the people and as society have duty to protect the innocent. When an incident like this happens we should try to make sure it doesn’t happen again. And luckily thats what people are doing. The know that this kind of incidents can’t just pass by easily or that they can’t be set aside. From the protests in Orlando to the Hoodie Marches in Manhattan, people want to make sure that there voices are heard and that George Zimmerman should be arrested and convicted. Because next time it could be you or somebody that you love or Know. 

People fear the unknown. They fear what they don’t understand and usually fear and imagine the worst, and the worst case scenario. We could argue that to Zimmerman, Trayvon was like the unknown and that he feared him and didn’t understand him. Maybe Zimmerman feared the worst and thats what caused his reaction. Yet, however you look at it doesn’t give him the right to go out and kill somebody. In the book To Kill a Mockingbird  people fear Boo Radley and make up the worst rumors about him, just because they don’t know much about him. In there minds he is a savage, he is a Monster, yet; how can you judge what you don’t know  and understand and if you do judge it why does it always have to have a negative connotation. As the book progresses we can see that Boo has a heart and that he in reality has good intentions. But no matter how bad people think that Boo is they don’t have the right to kill him just like how George Zimmerman didn’t have the right to kill Trayvon Martin.

A couple days ago I finished reading an extraordinary book titled Monster. The book revolves around the case of a 16-year-old black boy named Steve Harmon who is on trail for murder. Steve didn’t kill the man, yet the jury judges him by his physical traits and by the way he looks and dresses. In the jury’s minds and in the bystanders mind he is a Monster because he is a black male . When somebody dies the easiest thing to do is to point a finger at somebody and who better than an African American. In the people’s mind the fact that Steve was black was enough to make him a suspect. “Half of the jurors believed you were guilty the moment they laid there eyes on you, your young your Black. What else do they need to know?”(pg. 78&79). Just like in Monster, Trayvon was judged by his gender and race, what other excuse did George Zimmerman need to shoot the kid other than he’s Black and looks “suspicious”.

Trayvon had a life. He had  family and friends that loved and cared for him and who were waiting for him the next day or once he got back from the store. He was young he had a lot to look forward to, college, and sports among other things. He was the victim of racism prejudice and stereotypes, he was the victim of an unjust society, his death wasn’t his fault some people might call it being at wrong place at the wrong time. But that still doesn’t take away from all the suffering his family and friends are going through. And the worst part is that his killer is still roaming the streets free of all charges just as if nothing had happened, but people want to make sure that this doesn’t got unheard. “I look to a day when people will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.”

-Dr. Martin Luther King J.R. 

 

To Kill a Mockingbird Chapter 8

We had the most bizarre winter that year--Atticus said it was the coldest weather since 1885. Which differed from the usual sweltering heat in Maycomb County.  People say that bad things happen in 3s and oh boy can I confirm that. It all started with old Mrs. Radley’s  death. Jem and I thought that Boo had conspired to  take her life and that he would soon be arraigned. As soon as Atticus got back from the Radley house we started to interrogate him, but sadly he told us that she died of natural causes.

Another incident soon followed. Next morning I awoke to the end of the World or so I thought. My screams woke Atticus he rushed to my room, I asked him what was happening and he said saying “its just snowing". I couldn’t quite apprehend the concept of snow in Maycomb County. School was canceled, considering it hadn’t snowed since 1885. Jem and I conspired to build a snowman but we reckoned that we didn't have enough snow. Luckily Miss Maudie let us borrow her snow. But even with that we still didn’t have enough. Soon after Jem can up with a clever plan by, making the base with dirt and then covering the rest up with snow. We made the snowman look like Mr. Avery. we gave the snowman a meticulous check so that it looked just like him. Time elapsed and Atticus arrived; he complimented our work and boy did Jem ears redden with pride when Atticus complimented him, yet he told us we had to disguise the fellow. so Jem stole Miss Maudie’s hat and placed it on top of him our work was done.

Since bad things come in 3s it was imminent  that another bizarre would follow. I was awoken by Atticus  he told me to put on my robe and go outside. Once I went outside I saw what Atticus what talking about poor Miss Maudie’s house was in flames, it was total anarchy outside. It was extremely calamitous, people were going crazy not sure of what to do. All the men were trying to help, the house was being embellished in flames and poor Mr. Avery was shackled inside the house  not being able to get out. I closed my eyes i could’t bare to watch. I soon opened then when Jem told me he had gotten out but he had fallen poor Mr. Avery I said to myself. People left after a while. Atticus looked at me awkwardly before asking me whose blanket I had on. I was so distracted by the incident that I hadn’t noticed that I had a blanket on that wasn’t even ours. I looked at Jem for an answer but he looked just as confused as I did. Jem broke the silence by saying that Mr. Nathan was in the fire. but then Jem went nuts and  started babbling about the cement that Mr. Nathan put in the tree, and about his pants. I was shocked I was thinking Jem what the hell are you doing luckily-- Atticus had not understood a single word he said. Then it was my turn to go crazy “Jem, Boo Radley put the blanked on you” said Atticus. I was shocked out of my mind.     

Letter

Dear Lily,

How have you been? a long time has elapsed since I’v last seen you, to long for my liking. I know I’v been to much of a coward to contact you sooner-and the fact that I cant write well adds on to the problem. I feel even more ashamed that I worked up the courage to talk to you only when my time on earth is ending. Life has been lonely without you-and believe you I know that I’v wronged you, but please tell me why you would chose those Negros instead of me. You left without notice just like your mother and you left me in misery, and then I found you just to lose you again. 

Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you. I spend every goddamn second thinking about you. I love you and I hope you can forgive me but I will not forgive those Niggers for stealing you just like they stole your mother from me. I’m trying to apprehend why you would even look their way. It was a conspiracy and a dissension when everybody in the town found out you were staying with them and honestly i felt a little bizarre-I  felt ashamed of you back then  but I’m starting to apprehend your decisions little by little. 

These years without you have bee very calamitous and I believe that there is nothing left for me in this world- I’v lost everything I have ever loved and whats the point in living if you’ve got nothing worth fighting for. I have very few things that I would like to ask you to do for me before I die. The first one is if you can please stop being with those Niggers or tell my why you left them for me. My final request is if you can please forgive me for all I have done so I can part this world in peace.

Sincerely, 

         your father 

The Problem we all Live With

         The Problem we all Live With. Is a very iconic picture made in 1964 portraying all that Ruby Bridges  had to go through while she had to go to a school in the deep south, that had recently been desegregated. The painting shows Ruby Bridges a African American schoolgirl having to walk to school and all the the ways she was abused just because of the color of her skin. The painting  shows Ruby being surrounded by four U.S. Marshals. She is wearing a clean white dress and raising her head proudly refusing to give in to all the abuse she was receiving, like the tomatoes being thrown at her or the Nigger that was written in graphite on the wall she was walking by, or even the K.K.K sign that was scratched on the wall

        After staring at the painting, completely mesmerized and astounded, I  thought to myself who is or was the genius that crafted this extraordinary piece of art. I soon found out that it was Norman Rockwell. Norman Rockwell was born on February 3rd 1894 and died November 8th, 1978. He was a iconic painter of the 20th century, who was known for his ability to portray everyday scenarios and his ability to capture the cruelty of humanity.

     I then looked deeper and closer into the picture noticing small details and peculiar things that Rockwell had done. I noticed that the picture was cropped and that you could only see the face of Ruby Bridges. I also noticed that Ruby Bridges was wearing a white dress, maybe Rockwell wanted her to stand out, but I realized that the white dress had more meaning than just that maybe the color was symbolic,and that the dress was white to show that Ruby Bridges was innocent and that she wasn’t fully aware of the situation. She was just an innocent child caught in the middle of a tough era, not fully aware of what was happening.