what does a ban say
on a sunny Easter Day
THAT
starving children,
the moaning human refuse
collected
for posterity
in refugee wastelands
must starve
WHILE
sheltered youth,
plump and spoiled
dressed in pressed watercolors
not junk yard soiled
are allowed free run
on a White House lawn
to hunt for candy-filled eggs
what does a ban say
on a sunny Easter Day
THAT
this year
the Easter Bunny voted
rolled his eggs for Trump
WHILE
children, impoverished,
hunted meals
from the dump
what does a ban say
on a sunny Easter Day
WHAT?
~
Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me
Posted in poetry & free verse. Bookmark the permalink.
Love the Barbie in the Garbie … you’re on a roll with this one …
Thank you, Roger! These give me pause before I hit publish, so I appreciate the feedback. Hope you had a nice weekend. I need to catch-up on your blog. We got busy! Is it warming up there? I have my windows all open here.
It was warmer, but now it’s dipped back down again. We had spring birds in though … Purple Finches, American Goldfinches, Robins … that’s a good sign. The river crested and is on its way back down, but we have 15 cms of snow forecast for some parts of the province. Double yuck!
Oh…not more snow!!!! When the birds of spring arrive, you know you are right there!
It must have been a difficult poem to write. We are living in times when the two extremes of society, the very very rich and the very, very poor just don’t seem to understand each other. Perhaps that’s why “Barbie in the Garbie” made such an impression. The visual is sometimes more effective than the words, though the combination of both can also overwhelm.
When I write a piece like this, I feel like I am verbally bashing people over the head. I don’t begrudge anyone their joy in life. I’ve been blessed in my own. That said, if we really care, we share. For my own kids that has meant teaching them to set aside things they sometimes want so they can help someone else. When I see pictures of starving babies in refugee camps, it breaks my heart. It needs to break us enough to compel us to do something about it.
btw, I will be placing my Amazon order this week! I’m excited. I have a friend who is going to be really blessed reading your new book, Roger!
They sent my first batch to me this morning, so it should arrive later this week, or early next. I am looking forward to seeing it in print. Thank you for your support and I do hope the book lives up to expectations. I trust and hope it will help your friend. That is what it is designed to do: show where people have walked before … it’s not an easy book in many ways.
She is a cancer survivor from years ago, but she has also lost several close relatives to the disease. I know it will mean a lot to her. I love getting the books in print for the first time! That is an exciting moment for a writer!
Thanks, Tanya. I have e-mailed you. As a cancer survivor, she will have gone through much of what I have. Give her my best wishes …
I will, Roger, thank you!
Good work, passionate protest at its best 🌞
Thank you so much, Bill! I left the subtle hand and charm off this one. The hypocrisies are hard to watch.
I appreciate you putting this into words. Sometimes all we can do as individuals is to use the weapons of poetry.
Thank you again, and keep those pencils sharp, Bill!
Wow. That’s hard-hitting and so relevant. Beautifully expressed, Tanya!
Thank you so much, Shweta! Too many children, too many people, get nothing. We’ve got to work to fix it.
You are welcome, Tanya. Yes, you’re right. Too many people are struggling to survive.
For every person we help, we make a difference. We can’t fix it all, but we can progress. I hope!😊
Yes. That’s true. It’s better than nothing! We can make a difference, one small step at a time. 🙂
We can! Enjoy the rest of your week!😊
Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.
Thank you for the share! This one was a bit of an angry rant. Some of the pictures of children coming out of Syria…crushing.
It’s everywhere though.
If we would all just share some…
I don’t have the proper words to express what I feel about the children of war. Yes I do: Hatred, Rage, Disgust, Helplessness, Rage, Anger….
That is what prompted this piece. The reality for too many children is pure hell. We can do better…we must.
We are helpless against a government that glorifies war. Bloody revolution against this current administration is the only way and that means more bloodshed here at home. Sadly there is no solution to peace without death.
I meant there is no solution FOR peace without death.
I certainly hope we can find solutions. That said, we have a president who ordered a bombing, and his approval rating goes up. We fight with drones. We separate ourselves from suffering through bans and walls. It is discouraging. The few bright notes in history (Wilberforce and the slave trade ban in the UK, for example, are few)…Still I hope. We have a long way to go.
As they say, Keep Hope Alive.
Always.😊😉
A difficult poem to write, Tanya, but you handle those problems with grace. I’m not sure what the ‘ban’ reference is about(?)
Hi, Dermott! I was thinking specifically about the ban on Syrian refugees, but I also had in mind the migrant dairy workers in my state who are “hiding” to keep from being deported. Moms and dads are shopping separately and staying out of public as much as possible. These people make up a huge portion of the dairy workers in WI, doing hard work no one else wants for pennies. You didn’t see their children at public egg hunts this year.
That’s what I thought it meant – the ‘Muslim’ ban – and yes, I agree but I’m shocked by how inured we become to viewing such images today either because we doubt what we see, have been stripped of our human reference points or we’re simply brain weary and worn out by the mountain of images with which we’re bombarded daily. Your poem did prompt me to write a poem that I called ‘Where have all the heroes gone?’
I’ll be sure to read your poem.
The images horrify me, and that spills out of my pen.
I think, in many areas, the insensitivity to the plight of others is nothing more than greedy, hard hearts. They don’t want to see it or think about it, because they might be compelled to do something about it.
But the suffering of children…
It hurts my heart.
listen, a child
the sounds of war
echo in a young cry
tell of
collateral damage
paid in flesh
through
a starving belly
a homeless head
that dying baby
nurses dust
from the cracked nipple
of a shattered nation
listen
listen, to a heart, child
that beats in time
with yours, still beats
ears unstopped
hear tympanic rythym
eyes opened
see wind-whipped,
milky powder
that engulfs and chokes you
stirs it in hot coffee,
dissolving
bans
and
walls
and
wars
and makes nursemaid
of foreign shore
listen, to a heart, child
hears yours
I believe, with that, you have brought us full circle. Beautiful ending, Steve!
I would love that. I enjoyed our back and forth on this!
😊☕☕
I’ve lost count today…Lol
It’s more than three…
Haha…That would speed things up!
Lol…☕🤣
I wish I had more eloquent words but I can just say what I feel…this is badass poetry right here! Exceptional!!!!
Thank you so much! I’m thrilled you thought so and humbled by the words you used. 😊