I Dream of Kings

I Dream of Kings

“We must learn to live together as brothers or we will perish together as fools.” -Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Today, the greatest threat to the realization of MLK’s famous dream is an ignorant and underachieving black community. Dr. King’s dream will remain but a most noble dream for as long as there remains a single black boy in America’s streets who values a pair of sneakers above the life of his schoolmate, as long as there remains a group of black young men who pledge their allegiance to a particular color and willfully perpetuate murder, rape and other ills against their own people of color, as long as there remain more black men who excel in the streets than on Wall Street, as long as the state of black motherhood remains “single and supported”, as long as the most talented black writers remain songwriters and not published authors and historians, as long as the most esteemed black orators remain in studios and not in classrooms, as long as the most visible black men remain actors and not activists, as long as the most celebrated black women remain in music videos and not in instructional videos, as long as the black man perceives the epitome of his achievement in the land of opportunity as becoming a Dr. without the King. So you see, the greatest roadblock to the ideals so excellently articulated in Dr. King’s timeless “I Have a Dream” speech is no longer an unjust white system in America slowly but surely losing its majority status and clutching desperately to its fading wheels, but rather, it is arguably the most intriguing and perplexing creature in all the earth – the very black man for whom Dr. King and countless others gave everything, the so-called American negro! In this being we find a man armed with a dream and infinite potential, a man who while still inhibited by prejudice of those who presume him less than he is worth, remains mostly limited by his own ineptitude at the realization of the greatest dream ever told! R.I.P. Dr. King. Until Kingdom Come we will fight to see your dream realized. Godspeed America.

[image via]

Just Ice

Just Ice

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” —Martin Luther King Jr.

What is justice but just ice?
That quickly melts away under the heat of unjust laws?
The same heat that causes a tan so dark it
appears invisible to white justice.

Apparently, an overdose of melanin
causes a shortage of justice.
Invisible children, natural suspects, the flavor of crime.
Naturally, the dark of flesh must be dark of intent too.

No country for black men.
“9-1-1. What is your emergency?”
“Officer, I’m afraid my eyes behold a black man!”
“And what’s he doing?”
“Walking, it would appear!”
“Do not engage suspect! I repeat, do not engage!”

You know the story, his story. It’s history, on replay.
Oh Lady Liberty, I thought you cooked in a melting pot!
What happened? For whom do you carry that torch?
And what of your sister, Lady Justice?
She’s grown tired, I’m afraid.

The weights on her scales have been
too unbalanced for too long.
Her hands know not right from wrong.
Forgive me, they do. It is her eyes that ain’t
right, for they see not the wrong.

Lady Justice, I address you now directly! How
would you like to bury your child?


I didn’t think so; no parent should have
to bear such suffering. But alas,
Under your gaze such is the case for this family.
What’s worse, the culprit yet walks and may
yet walk after all is said and done.
Wouldn’t be the first time, may not be the last.

What say you my lady?


’Tis a pity you stand silent still. I wish
you would enter your plea.
Ah, but of course. I rest my case.

What is justice but just ice?
That is invariably crushed into oblivion
under the heels of an unjust mistress?

P.S. No justice, no peace. Dedicated to the memory of the
boy, and cause that is the name, Trayvon Martin.

Operation Reckless Abandon

photo (2)

“The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.” -Douglas MacArthur

He feels far from a heavyweight, but more like such deadweight, as he sits back to contemplate, his most unfortunate fate. Never before has he been so desperate, having to ask to be given food upon a silver plate. His life is no canvas, but rather a mud-stained glass. And every other passerby would cast the proverbial first stone, concluding he must have been stoned, and that was why he had to atone. Judge not lest ye be judged. But it ain’t so! Not in the land where every free man and woman wields a gavel for show. The jury, in its mandatory duty, deliberates only momentarily, and soon brings down the heavy hand of judgment upon him. And so when the sun’s rays go dim, he finds a cemented court and lays his shabby head underneath a net-less rim. Concrete heavens are plentiful all across this vast rainforest, and yet for one like him finding a decent place to rest, is a more difficult test, than climbing Mount Everest. Oases abound the land of the free like pantries full of dessert, but for his part he is intolerated, denigrated, isolated, and excommunicated, to a concrete desert. After all, he was just a necessary sacrifice, even after having willingly paid the ultimate price; and not only once but twice. Vietnam was such a long time ago but he still vividly recalls his frantic voice yelling, “Mayday, Mayday!” It was as if his fighter jet had been shot down just yesterday. Oh and by the way, just the other day, some good Christians stopped by to pray, thanking God it was Friday; but said they had nothing more to give or say.

If losing an eye in ‘Nam was an injury, then the insult had to be Iraq, where his tour of duty resulted only in a wooden plaque. Well, that and a fancy, modern day wooden leg, whose maintenance costs eventually got him evicted from his bed of sheets; and stripped him of any remnant dignity, thereby forcing him into the streets, with no other option left but to beg. But what of that good old G.I. Bill? Isn’t that part of Uncle Sam’s will? He’s been advised to look into it and to use his head. But what’s the point, the funds must have gone to some corporate G.I. Joes instead. As it stands he has nothing left to his name that would necessitate drafting his own will; well, nothing but a fading deadly skill. And even that he cannot pass on, as all his loved ones have long since passed on. To think that for him the only spoils he’s ever gotten from fighting for this soil, have been the tons of aluminum foil, he uses to preserve what little he gathers from his daily toil. What’s worse, teenagers walk about him taking tons of photos on their smartphones, and deliberating amongst themselves what would make a good Instagram #hashtag. Unbelievable, his teenage friends once only concerned themselves with what would keep them from coming home in a body bag. Tags for likes, he hears them say. What a shame, it used to be tags for lives, back in his day. Truly, this world has become unlike anything he’s ever seen before! Is this what he’d spent his whole life fighting for?

Interestingly enough, while he has lost faith in man he hasn’t altogether lost faith in the Maker of man. Although to be fair, he has had his fair share of doubt. But a hardened man like him knows it is futile to go about and pout. For starters, he shouldn’t have made it this far, not after land mines in Baghdad once blew up his squad car. He wasn’t the sole soldier within and yet when the dust settled he was the sole survivor without. When his life was at its pinnacle, he did believe in The Word, and in that mysterious word, miracle. Besides, at this time in his life, his time in life is near its end. So he figures that for what Faith is worth it would be most unwise to give it all up now; to abandon Time itself, and the One who is at once the Beginning and the End. Using sticks and stones and his broken bones, he carefully carves what would be his last words into the mud near his fence-less makeshift home, “End the wars, and bring our troops home!” And as he lays his weary head to rest once more underneath that sturdy, rusty old rim, he has one final but familiar dream: That America the Beautiful, would one day also be, America the Faithful.

P.S. “If we don’t end war, war will end us.” -H.G. Wells

Facing Our Fears


“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” -Edmund Burke

The only thing more tragic than any act of terrorism is for those of us who bear witness to its evil to feed on the frenzy of fear that abounds in its wake. We are not made in the spirit of fear, and have nothing to fear but fear itself. To be afraid in a singular, uncertain, shocking moment is to be human, but to constantly live in a state of fear as a result of the isolated act of a coward or the coordinated/systematic act of a group of cowards, is to display even greater cowardice! evil is like a snake; a slithering, sneaky creature with a venomous bite. It could be far, it could be near, but there’s no mistaking its nature. But Good…oh God, Good! Good is the mighty heel destined to always crush evil’s ugly head. Good is constant, timeless, and far reaching; and even the shadow of Good is vast! Even the whisper of Good is thunderous!

We must understand that it is not by some naive fallacy, childlike fantasy or mere coincidence that in our holy books, history stories, movies, novels, fictional tales and other literature, Good consistently triumphs over evil; no matter the odds, no matter the ills, no matter the long suffering. No, it is the very fabric of human nature. It is at the very core of the natural order. It is by the very perfect design of our Creator. Yes, evil may be bold for a moment, but its day of reckoning eventually dawns. No matter how dark the night in the aftermath of a tragedy like the one our nation has just witnessed via the Boston Marathon Bombings, the sun shall yet rise in the wake of a new day. And its blinding light shall serve as a daily reminder to us that it is light that will drive out darkness, that it is waking to the morning sun that will end our nightmares. It will undoubtedly remind us that it is unrelenting good that will overwhelm unsolicited evil. It will also remind US that while it sets on us momentarily as darkness befalls us and our own darkness consumes us, it never stops its tireless work (shining light on ALL the world) but remains shining elsewhere…perhaps on another distant land, in another foreign nation that experienced similar or greater terror on the eve of our own, or may yet experience similar or greater suffering in the morrow, when the sun returns to shine upon US once more.

This is our defining lesson:  the Sun is constant! God is constant! Good is constant! Love is constant! We too must be constant! We must be Good. We won’t all be Good. We won’t always be Good. But by God, We MUST be Good! In the face of evil, we must look it in the eye, and boldly say, “It’s all GOOD!” Let us be as indiscriminate in spreading our Good as the sun is in shining its light. Evil has played it’s card. Now, it’s clearly our move. So, let’s do some GOOD! Right here, and everywhere! Together, let’s be light. Together, let’s be constant. Together, let’s be Good! Godspeed Boston!

P.S. “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” -F.D.R.

This is really a tribute that extends beyond Boston. This is a message in honor of the multitude of innocent people around the world (in Pakistan, in other parts of the Middle East, in many parts of Africa, and elsewhere) who are victims of failed politics, vile, corrupt and inhumane systems, powerful, faceless, and nameless individuals, who perpetrate evil “acts of terror” from the secrecy and false sense of security the shadows in which they linger gives them, whether they be so-called “terrorist organizations”, foreign and/or domestic, or whether they be our very own US Government. We must combat evil in all its manifestations, as indiscriminately and unapologetically as we spread Good. Ultimately, whatever is done in the dark will be brought to light, and upon a day, we shall all atone for the roles we each play(ed) on our shared Earth, in this life or the next. God help us all.

[image via]