My hometown

I remember it well, standing in the church listening to Jesse Jackson speak about unity and the kkk.
We sat and prepared ourselves to take a stand against the klan, you could hear them outside, waiting for us to come out and walk to the town hall.
After being told how to handle everything the doors to the church opened and we made our way down the steps.
The klan was there, microphone and speaker standing unified, yelling things I won’t repeat on this post.
We walked by them, never spoke, never blinked, never uttered a word. We made our way to the town hall to peaceful stand.
I vividly remember growing up with the klan ever present in my town. I lived very close to the down town area and would run down the street to the record store but would always slow down nearing the corner, the klan would be there standing and handing out pamphlets trying to get ppl to join.
I remember how they made me feel, scared. Always being instructed by my parents and grandmother to never take anything from them. I would say no but they would insist, I would get far enough away and fling it.
I remember holding my grandmothers hand walking to jimmy’s near the railroad station, the klan was there and she told me, “don’t flinch, don’t look at them and don’t entertain demons. Just walk right through them.”
My grandmother would be proud of the progress made in this town.
The klan was a fixture here, I would watch them drive those big black Cadillacs into the cemetery for what I don’t know.
I remember how they would gather in groups up town and downtown, I remember the skin heads being around.
I remember Jesse Jackson coming back to help us again, I remember the heightened emotions this time, the words of disgust being spoken to them, one persons even pulled the hood off of a klan memeber.
I remember Matthew Hale coming and speaking.
I remember all of this well. I know the reputation of this town, I know what people say but I would hope people would take into account the battle that went on to break away from them, push them out of this town.
People may tell you that there hasn’t been much of this in the past but there has been and I tell you that to also say that we have truly come far.
People may tell you that there is still open kkk meetings but in all honesty I haven’t seen or heard of any.
People have spoken about burning Wallingford down, I would hope people would take a moment to understand the fight that went on to push the klan out, to bring in more diversity, to stand against racism, and to progress as a town. Is there still racism in this town, yes.
I remember the growing up with the klan in this town and I remember the battle that went on to push them out and silence their open meetings.
There are some good people here that have fought agansit the klan and helped Wallingford to progress.
Many have stood against the klan in this town, there was no hashtags, or live feeds just people standing for the rights of others to live without fear.

Absence

Sorry for my absence.

Life has proven to have unexpected moments of sheer busyness but in a good way.

I was given the opportunity to work on a second chap book. Most of the writings are unpublished and have only been read by one other person for some feedback.

I appreciate everyone’s patience with me!

Review

Very grateful for a book review that came in from the Philippines..

Beth Tremaglio/ Quiet Echoes’ pieces that the Philippines and its people can relate.

_____

I really enjoyed reading the whole book! Her poetry are deeply provoking since it talks about societal issues and human nature that we also experience and see in our country.

My favorites are “I Have Seen”, “Becoming What You Hate”, and my heart really cried for “Selling Hope”.

Hope y’all would be able to read these wonderful pieces. You may grab a copy of Quiet Echos at Amazon for only $6.38.

Resemblance spoke

“It is all but a mirror,

meant to reflect

not to be seen.”

The resemblance spoke;

it is but a reflection,

to you,

this mask is honesty.

A dimming of light,

the role seems noble, the deeds hide in darkened corners. The heart agonizing for there is no verity.

A light in fullness,

the role is unclothed,

the mirror can no longer hold the reflection,

light has stripped the glass of power to return what pleases.

Intentions bare

reasons lay upon the street unadulterated,

the seduction of earthly powers have scattered and hid in the recesses of vastness.

What will you do now?

You who have sold resemblances as truth, purposely deceiving the minds of men/women.

Your own mirrors have sold you to light,

naked and guilty you stand before moralities seat.

Weep oh mighty ones,

truth will come to the many you’ve turned into warring beggars..

Crimes upon the face

And then they said

“We cannot get him/her for the unjustness.

We will crucify,

for the crime hung upon his/her face.”

In that day,

people will be the new religion,

temples decorated and clothed,

worshipped as gods.

Creators of new laws.

Creators of new codes of conduct.

A simple glance found offensive will be deemed criminal and those found guilty when no other charge can be brought against them,

will suffer at the hands of men/woman,

left outside the city gates,

isolated

deemed unworthy to grace the cobble stoned streets with the morally superior.

The scale of social behavior will be defined by over zealous lordships.

Every move watched by the digital eye,

10 years pass

your case can come at any moment,

the guilt of a look

or word of disagreement has all been recorded in the digital book of life and judgement.

Your name is written,

one misstep,

you will be examined from birth to current and dragged through societies social court of mob ruled justice.

The court will come for your job,

your home

your friends

your well constructed life,

only then will you find

None are free.

Stomach of pleasures

A time cultivating poverty

of the spirit,

the flesh hungers for more that is of temporary fulfillment,

filling the stomach of pleasures made from old stone.

Religions of the wind,

the dead of spirit rise to claim life

gasping from artificial breath,

spewing amens from dead bowels,

the withered hand has fallen

to unjust knees,

cultivating death to the just and life to the unjustly.

Spartacus wannabes

Bull*** I am Spartacus wannabes…

This is supposed to be about we the people

not we the ruling classes.

This isn’t about doing what’s right but has become about taking any issue trending and using that to sway for votes and power.

This is about regaining power, gaining the majority in the house so one party can rule over the other.

Both political parties are looking for their “I am Spartacus” moments, using the accused and the accuser.

Gropers speaking out against the accused…really?!

All the sudden everyone gives a crap about corruption, corruption both parties have lived off of for years and both have created.

All the sudden everyone gives a crap about sexual assault/abuse within powerful circles and yet every single one of them have swept years of abuse under the rug but now everyone wants to be Spartacus and speak out against abuse.

All of the sudden everyone gives a crap about the corruption and injustice that has destroyed the lives of many Americans and created a new class of working poor, any injustices committed towards ppl of color and how all these politicians are sick of it?!

They only care now because it is affecting their power.

They are now speaking out against tribalism, a tribalism they created.