i can reconcile the two.
i can bridge the gap.
i can marry the distance.
i can be...whole.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Thursday, January 3, 2008
"We must find the courage to dream. To reclaim romance. The romance in believing in justice, in freedom, and in dignity, for everybody."
The above is a quote from Arudhati Roy's "An Ordinary Citizen's Guide to Empire," which is an amazing, easy-to-digest read of a number of speeches that the India native Roy presented around the world in defense of a democratic society (which does not exist in India, and which has been slowly dissolving here in the States for decades now). It is a must read for every critical thinking American... (hint. hint.)
Following below is a poem that I wrote upon my return to the States and just before the holiday season kicked off in 2001. I had spent a year, from September 2000 through November 2001, reveling in a life abroad, - traveling around the globe, tasting sweet fruit, and chalking up life experiences. Whether or not I was "lucky" to be in some exotic locale when the events of September 11th, as well as the fall out it produced, rolled around I know not. What I do know is that I was just as confused as most when the news finally reached the quaint backcountry hut I was living out of on a mountainside in central Switzerland.
Being a true Libran, who was born under Venus, I believe in truth and beauty. During an idyllic youth, I walked around with a pair of rose-tinted sunglasses. The world was a beautiful utopia, all was as it is supposed to be, and my shit didn't stink. Slowly, as my undergraduate days melted away, the pink lens of my glasses was giving way to a clear vision, - all was not roses and sweet fragrance. Traveling abroad, especially in countries such as Zimbabwe where President Robert Mugabe has been strangling the economy (and thus, metaphorically, as well as sometimes literally, its citizens) for at least a decade now, continued to expand my worldly perspective. All was not well that goes well.
I returned to the States, less than two months after September 11th, flying into JFK in New York. During my visit with extended family in New Jersey, wearied feet carried both my aunt and I around the demolished and still smoldering World Trade Center site. Still confused, a dismay and a disregard began to burn in my chest as, on every street corner I turned, peddlers were hawking T-shirts, American flags, photographic keepsakes, and other cheap consumer products. Intrinsically, I understood that whatever 'terror' exists, it resides first deep within us. And that, even George W. Bush's urging to "go shopping" immediately following these "attacks" could not abate whatever deep well this was. I'll say it again, - consumerism cheapens democracy.
A democratic society is made up of thinking individuals who are consistently questioning their government. It is 'we the people' who are suppose to provide the checks and balances here. What has happened to us? What have we dissolved into? No, I do not support the troops! True "patriots" take a stand to protect the freedoms and liberties of all, even if their actions are deemed unpopular in the moment. I don't support malls, television, or cheap crap, either!
If I sound angry, it is because I am. "If you're not angry, then you aren't paying attention." Filling my physical world with unnecessary stuff will not make make the pain, the anger, or the sadness magically go away. It is up to me, - to read, to think, to discuss, and to work through all of these pent-up emotions with as many others as possible, to transform this life-sucking suffocation into a love-giving sustenance. I have to believe in something, - thus, I choose LOVE. As one of my sage-like professors recently said, "Anger can be a catalyst for change." Let's get angry, folks!
inside i feel conflicted
here in this "powerful" and "free"
american country
where its citizens are saturated
with words and images
of war and hate
of destruction and death
and taught to believe
the jargon
the propaganda
the loss of innocent lives
as merely "an eye for an eye"
(an eye for an eye makes a society of blind people)
who scramble down
the pedestrian choked sidewalks
of rockefeller center
consuming insatiable capitalist needs
while red, flicking lights
dance across the nbc studio's outdoor billboard
announcing victories
cities lost
and war criminals gained
and i walk by
in my newly acquired
brown, leather boots
and burnt orange, 200+ u.s. dollars
bloomingdale's coat
made in india
or perhaps it is mexico
or even hong kong
but, surely, it is not
the states
we cry
that we now stand "united"
and proud to be americans
while billion dollar u.s. corporations
still deny their own fellow patriots
a worthy place
in the job market
by manufacturing their products abroad
the mark up making
a world of difference
only to the pockets
of those elite, rich few
those same men
who create
these guns, bombs, and wars
and who we vote into office
time after time again,
so have a fucking merry christmas
(or chanukah, or kwanzaa, or ramadan
or whatever the fuck you practice)
may we reap the blood
sweat
and tears
of the millions of other
inhabitants of this earth
may we clink our
crystal champagne glasses
and toast cheers
salud
sante
prost
to this new year
yet another year
when others will
starve, freeze, and die
suffering
struggling
to exist
from one day to the next
while we grow
fat
and miserable
and yet always secure
in the knowledge
that tomorrow will always come
and that what we put off today
can always be done.
i await the moment
when this finely tuned
sheltering bubble
will burst.
-----chc
Following below is a poem that I wrote upon my return to the States and just before the holiday season kicked off in 2001. I had spent a year, from September 2000 through November 2001, reveling in a life abroad, - traveling around the globe, tasting sweet fruit, and chalking up life experiences. Whether or not I was "lucky" to be in some exotic locale when the events of September 11th, as well as the fall out it produced, rolled around I know not. What I do know is that I was just as confused as most when the news finally reached the quaint backcountry hut I was living out of on a mountainside in central Switzerland.
Being a true Libran, who was born under Venus, I believe in truth and beauty. During an idyllic youth, I walked around with a pair of rose-tinted sunglasses. The world was a beautiful utopia, all was as it is supposed to be, and my shit didn't stink. Slowly, as my undergraduate days melted away, the pink lens of my glasses was giving way to a clear vision, - all was not roses and sweet fragrance. Traveling abroad, especially in countries such as Zimbabwe where President Robert Mugabe has been strangling the economy (and thus, metaphorically, as well as sometimes literally, its citizens) for at least a decade now, continued to expand my worldly perspective. All was not well that goes well.
I returned to the States, less than two months after September 11th, flying into JFK in New York. During my visit with extended family in New Jersey, wearied feet carried both my aunt and I around the demolished and still smoldering World Trade Center site. Still confused, a dismay and a disregard began to burn in my chest as, on every street corner I turned, peddlers were hawking T-shirts, American flags, photographic keepsakes, and other cheap consumer products. Intrinsically, I understood that whatever 'terror' exists, it resides first deep within us. And that, even George W. Bush's urging to "go shopping" immediately following these "attacks" could not abate whatever deep well this was. I'll say it again, - consumerism cheapens democracy.
A democratic society is made up of thinking individuals who are consistently questioning their government. It is 'we the people' who are suppose to provide the checks and balances here. What has happened to us? What have we dissolved into? No, I do not support the troops! True "patriots" take a stand to protect the freedoms and liberties of all, even if their actions are deemed unpopular in the moment. I don't support malls, television, or cheap crap, either!
If I sound angry, it is because I am. "If you're not angry, then you aren't paying attention." Filling my physical world with unnecessary stuff will not make make the pain, the anger, or the sadness magically go away. It is up to me, - to read, to think, to discuss, and to work through all of these pent-up emotions with as many others as possible, to transform this life-sucking suffocation into a love-giving sustenance. I have to believe in something, - thus, I choose LOVE. As one of my sage-like professors recently said, "Anger can be a catalyst for change." Let's get angry, folks!
inside i feel conflicted
here in this "powerful" and "free"
american country
where its citizens are saturated
with words and images
of war and hate
of destruction and death
and taught to believe
the jargon
the propaganda
the loss of innocent lives
as merely "an eye for an eye"
(an eye for an eye makes a society of blind people)
who scramble down
the pedestrian choked sidewalks
of rockefeller center
consuming insatiable capitalist needs
while red, flicking lights
dance across the nbc studio's outdoor billboard
announcing victories
cities lost
and war criminals gained
and i walk by
in my newly acquired
brown, leather boots
and burnt orange, 200+ u.s. dollars
bloomingdale's coat
made in india
or perhaps it is mexico
or even hong kong
but, surely, it is not
the states
we cry
that we now stand "united"
and proud to be americans
while billion dollar u.s. corporations
still deny their own fellow patriots
a worthy place
in the job market
by manufacturing their products abroad
the mark up making
a world of difference
only to the pockets
of those elite, rich few
those same men
who create
these guns, bombs, and wars
and who we vote into office
time after time again,
so have a fucking merry christmas
(or chanukah, or kwanzaa, or ramadan
or whatever the fuck you practice)
may we reap the blood
sweat
and tears
of the millions of other
inhabitants of this earth
may we clink our
crystal champagne glasses
and toast cheers
salud
sante
prost
to this new year
yet another year
when others will
starve, freeze, and die
suffering
struggling
to exist
from one day to the next
while we grow
fat
and miserable
and yet always secure
in the knowledge
that tomorrow will always come
and that what we put off today
can always be done.
i await the moment
when this finely tuned
sheltering bubble
will burst.
-----chc
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
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