by Pa Rock
Appreciator of Life
This is Monday, January 20th, the day our government has chosen to celebrate the birth and life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, a man of peace who was murdered by a man with a gun more than fifty years ago. The man who killed Dr. King feared his ideas of peaceful co-existence in an integrated society - and his skin color.
More than fifty years later not much seems to have changed.
Today "thousands" of angry white men - and more than a few angry white women, many wearing camouflage clothing and face masks, and most carrying guns - big guns - are marching through the streets of Richmond, Virginia, and are reportedly headed to the state capitol where the governor issued an emergency order late last week temporarily forbidding the carrying of weapons in and around that government building. The men are angry because Virginia elected a legislature controlled by the Democratic Party last fall - and the new legislators have passed a few laws regulating the sales and purchasing of guns. The laws are not radical assaults of what some refer to as the "rights" of individuals to possess guns, but rather are commonsense approaches aimed at keeping guns out of the hands of dangerous individuals and placing limits on the amount of guns that people can buy and possess over certain periods of time.
But the President of the United States has inflamed these "gun rights" advocates with fiery rhetoric warning that Democrats want to take their guns away, and his flame-fanning has given many the courage to come to Richmond today with their guns and to head toward the state capitol in defiance of the governor's order - an order which has already been upheld by the state's Supreme Court.
And it is entirely likely that a violent confrontation will ensue - as the rest of a more peaceful nation celebrates the life of a man of peace.
Today's poem, "In a Time of Peace," is by Ilya Kaminsky, a contemporary poet who was born in Ukraine. Like what is happening in Virginia today, this poem looks at the dichotomy of life in the United States as we fluctuate between violence on the streets to making salads for supper. Our world is so volatile and complex, that sometimes it is easier to just focus on what touches us directly.
But, in reality, it all touches us.
In a Time of Peace
by Ilya Kaminsky
Inhabitant of earth for forty something years
I once found myself in a peaceful country. I
watch neighbors open
their phones to watch
a cop demanding a man's driver's license. When
a man reaches for his wallet, the cop
shoots. Into the car window. Shoots.
It is a peaceful country.
We pocket our phones and go.
To the dentist,
to buy shampoo,
pick up the children from school,
get basil.
Ours is a country in which a boy shot by police
lies on the pavement
for hours.
We see in his open mouth
the nakedness
of the whole nation.
We watch. Watch.
others watch.
The body of a boy lies on the pavement exactly
like the body of a boy.
It is a peaceful country.
And it clips our citizens' bodies
effortlessly, the way the President's wife trims
her toenails.
All of us
still have to do the hard work of dentist
appointments, of remembering to make
a summer salad: basil, tomatoes, it is a joy,
tomatoes, add a little salt.
This is a time of peace.
I do not hear gunshots,
but the birds splash over the backyards of the
suburbs. How bright is the sky
as the avenue spins on its axis.
How bright is the sky (forgive me) how bright.
Appreciator of Life
This is Monday, January 20th, the day our government has chosen to celebrate the birth and life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, a man of peace who was murdered by a man with a gun more than fifty years ago. The man who killed Dr. King feared his ideas of peaceful co-existence in an integrated society - and his skin color.
More than fifty years later not much seems to have changed.
Today "thousands" of angry white men - and more than a few angry white women, many wearing camouflage clothing and face masks, and most carrying guns - big guns - are marching through the streets of Richmond, Virginia, and are reportedly headed to the state capitol where the governor issued an emergency order late last week temporarily forbidding the carrying of weapons in and around that government building. The men are angry because Virginia elected a legislature controlled by the Democratic Party last fall - and the new legislators have passed a few laws regulating the sales and purchasing of guns. The laws are not radical assaults of what some refer to as the "rights" of individuals to possess guns, but rather are commonsense approaches aimed at keeping guns out of the hands of dangerous individuals and placing limits on the amount of guns that people can buy and possess over certain periods of time.
But the President of the United States has inflamed these "gun rights" advocates with fiery rhetoric warning that Democrats want to take their guns away, and his flame-fanning has given many the courage to come to Richmond today with their guns and to head toward the state capitol in defiance of the governor's order - an order which has already been upheld by the state's Supreme Court.
And it is entirely likely that a violent confrontation will ensue - as the rest of a more peaceful nation celebrates the life of a man of peace.
Today's poem, "In a Time of Peace," is by Ilya Kaminsky, a contemporary poet who was born in Ukraine. Like what is happening in Virginia today, this poem looks at the dichotomy of life in the United States as we fluctuate between violence on the streets to making salads for supper. Our world is so volatile and complex, that sometimes it is easier to just focus on what touches us directly.
But, in reality, it all touches us.
In a Time of Peace
by Ilya Kaminsky
Inhabitant of earth for forty something years
I once found myself in a peaceful country. I
watch neighbors open
their phones to watch
a cop demanding a man's driver's license. When
a man reaches for his wallet, the cop
shoots. Into the car window. Shoots.
It is a peaceful country.
We pocket our phones and go.
To the dentist,
to buy shampoo,
pick up the children from school,
get basil.
Ours is a country in which a boy shot by police
lies on the pavement
for hours.
We see in his open mouth
the nakedness
of the whole nation.
We watch. Watch.
others watch.
The body of a boy lies on the pavement exactly
like the body of a boy.
It is a peaceful country.
And it clips our citizens' bodies
effortlessly, the way the President's wife trims
her toenails.
All of us
still have to do the hard work of dentist
appointments, of remembering to make
a summer salad: basil, tomatoes, it is a joy,
tomatoes, add a little salt.
This is a time of peace.
I do not hear gunshots,
but the birds splash over the backyards of the
suburbs. How bright is the sky
as the avenue spins on its axis.
How bright is the sky (forgive me) how bright.
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