Every age has its massive moral blind spots. We might not see them, but our children will. Slavery was one of them and the people who best served that age were the ones who called it as it was — which was ungodly and inhuman. … Segregation. There was another one. America sees this now but it took a civil rights movement to betray their age. … What are the ideas right now worth betraying? What are the lies we tell ourselves now? What are the blind spots of our age?
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Leopard
Leopards with their spots
Four legged polka dots
Jaguars too have spots
Leopard have densely spots
Jaguars have central spots
You and I call them spots
But Zoologist calls them
'Rosettes' which doesn't rhyme with spots.
Better to call them 'spots'
because it rhymes with 'dots.'
Who Gave you Inhuman Rights?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to the SriLankan army
to sever the heads of innocent boys
and set fire to the heaps of their corpses
at Mullivaikal and other places?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to rip the limbs of children,
the womenfolk and the old
and litter everywhere
for the vultures to eat or to rot?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to rape the wives of
the surrendered rebels
before their very eyes,
torture and kill them all?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to some mindless nations
to supply chemical weapons
to the brutal army of Lanka
to wage a genocidal war?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to the shameless soldiers of Lanka
to maul and cut off the feeding breasts
and shoot at the sacred organs
of the women and the rebels?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to the morons born to strumpets,
to shut the women and girls
in fenced-camps, starve
and lure them with food packets?
Who gave the inhuman rights
to drive out the ailing Tamils
from their traditional lands
and colonise with roguish monks
and Sinhalese convicts and goons?
Who can deny rights to Tamils elsewhere
to wage a war against these criminals
when the UNO is blind to these violations,
as some vested interests and bigots
have a stake in this blood-stained soil?
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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Upon A Looking Glass
In this see thou thy beauty, hast thou any,
Or thy defects, should they be few or many.
Thou may'st, too, here thy spots and freckles see,
Hast thou but eyes, and what their numbers be.
But art thou blind? There is no looking-glass
Can show thee thy defects, thy spots, or face.
Comparison.
Unto this glass we may compare the Word,
For that to man advantage doth afford
(Has he a mind to know himself and state),
To see what will be his eternal fate.
But without eyes, alas! how can he see?
Many that seem to look here, blind men be.
This is the reason they so often read
Their judgment there, and do it nothing dread.
poem by John Bunyan
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The tragedy of the civil rights movement is that just as it achieved the beginning of the end of racial segregation, white educated elites became swept up in the glamour of the sexual revolution.
quote by Maggie Gallagher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our minds thus grow in spots and like grease spots, the spots spread. But we let them spread as little as possible we keep unaltered as much of our old knowledge, as many of our old prejudices and beliefs, as we can.
quote by James Truslow Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our minds thus grow in spots and like grease spots, the spots spread. But we let them spread as little as possible we keep unaltered as much of our old knowledge, as many of our old prejudices and beliefs, as we can.
quote by William James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was the best route to get folks to understand segregation fast. Civil rights and women's rights had a clear history. Making the transition to rights for people with disabilities became easier because we had the history of the other two.
quote by Major Owens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Medical Virginity
I undress each month for my doctor
and he either feigns disinterest
or is blind to what he sees.
This is a particular kind of intimacy;
one where I undress on demand
and he looks
but does not see.
I turn,
wanting some acknowledgment
that he sees me
wants me.
But he does not acknowledge my need.
He touches me then
in intimate spots
and I feign
not feeling his hands
which he pre-warms just for me
before he touches.
I get dressed slowly
and he watches me
for a second and disappears
leaving me
with a tiny bit of my virginity
restored.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The New Inner-City Slave Plantation
The now-a-day slave or labor force
The ruling-class determines the course
The political master’s pastor contorts
Politics and policy aborts
The new inner city slave-plantation
Human and civil rights violation with extreme taxation
Work like a blind jackass
Support and finance the ruling class
Being bi-partisan-just a mask
Cultured career criminals civilizing crass
The new inner city slave-plantation
Human and civil rights violation with extreme taxation
The political engineers of The Greater Good own
The inner city war-zone
The psychotropic drug sets the tone
Slavery as the new world order is the throne
The new inner city slave-plantation
Human and civil rights violation with extreme taxation
Multi-tasking a labor saving device
Freedom of movement has no right
Monopolized government enslaved all might
The inner city slave- plantation private and prime
Real estate blight
The new inner city slave-plantation
Human and civil rights violation with extreme taxation
The thirteenth amendment of the constitution
On the inner city slave-plantation no social, no economical,
No educational, no political absolution
On the inner city slave-plantation, indentured servants,
Chattel slaves, still considered Black Gold
By the God Fearing slave codes used to control
The new inner city slave-plantation
Human and civil rights violation with extreme taxation
On the new inner city slave-plantation
The American Flag can not wave
Even Democracy is revered as a Black Slave
poem by Josephine DixonBanks
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Our Life
Our life appears akin the floor
Of mosaic tiles, spotted, three hues;
Each tile denotes a month that passed;
The spots refer to good and bad!
Umpteen are grey spots – venial sins,
By habit done, incessantly;
The fewer black spots – mortal sins,
Against the Ten Commands of God!
The spots of white were good deeds done;
Some tiles had few, some had galore;
The size of dots too varied much;
Such tiles were scarcely found and rare!
We yearn to see the floor all tiled,
With spots of white, all huge and bright;
Yet, earthly life is what we make
By labour, done in heaven’s light!
(24-07-11)
poem by John Celes
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Running Blind
Cant find the answers
Ive been crawling on my knees
Looking for anything
To keep me from drowning
Promises have been turned to lies
Can't even be honest inside
Now Im running backward
Watching my life wave me goodbye
Running blind
Im running blind
Somebody help me see Im running blind
Searching for nothing
Wondering if I'll change
Im trying everything
But everything still stays the same
I thought if I showed you I could fly
Wouldn't need anyone by my side
Now I'm running backward
With broken wings I know Ill die
Running blind
Im running blind
Somebody help me see Im running blind
Running blind
Running blind
Running blind
I can't find the answers
I've been crawling on my knees
Looking for anything
To keep me from drowning
I'm running blind
Running blind
Running blind
Running blind
Running blind
Running blind
Running blind
Running blind
Running blind
song performed by by Godsmack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As a civil rights leader, Mrs. King's vision of racial peace and nonviolent social change was a fortifying staple in advancing the civil rights movement.
quote by James T. Walsh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Body of Lies
America....
my country tizz
of the sweet land
of mizzory...
america I want
to love you but
you keep me in
shock you tell me
to trust you but yet
you rob me blind..
America you tell me go on
son make something of
your self you say that its
good to go back to school
to take out loans and to check on grants.well
I whent back to school
but when I graduated I stood in awe reality sunk in
were is the job I went to school for.America! why would you send it over seas.. America you tell me
uncle Sam wants you! you do good to tell me of all the money I can have and all the places I can go you tell me I can have it all oh America! Brain washed you made me to be I signed my name in blood on the dotted line then my freedome was striped from me you tell me ill gain the whole world.
America you failed to tell me that's if I make it Back!
you fund useless wars spend useless amounts of money! crush the dreams of tax payers.I guess this is the big I owe you part! America YOU PROMISED ME GREATNESS BUT HAVE ONLY BROUGHT ME HARM!
America! Im looking for the Change.
Im looking for the great movement.America! you tell
me it takes time you continue to blame it on the last president yes he the one you choose to blame. America what do we do know! your children are
barren homeless your wells that were once full of joy passion love peace
are about dry when oh! when america will you come to your senses you are being eaten from the inside out. the lies that you told me aren't seeming to wash or work out oh America! look at what you have become...
The thing you've feared the most hase come upon you like a theif in the night. you have trampled your children your boots diped in blood and stained blood red for such a time as
now you've earned it congratulations! now America you truly are a...
Body of lies.
poem by Cortez Mccall
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The civil rights movement in the United States was about the same thing, about equality of treatment for all sections of the people, and that is precisely what our movement was about.
I curse my critics.
I know I have weak spots.
I am annoyed with the people
As they find irrelevant spots
To pinpoint my weakness.
I know I have plus point.
I am disgusted with the people
As they find inconsistent points,
To project my plus points.
I am not known for what mostly I am.
29.05.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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From Greece To Rome (Part Two)
it took the civil rights movement,
the women's movement,
and the laborer's movement...
led by such as Cesar Chavez,
Martin Luther King, Malcolm X,
James Baldwin, Maya Angelou,
just to mention a few.
imprisonment, beatings, marches,
and many are dead now,
sacrificed to the cause.
JFK warned of secret societies,
wanted to pull out of Vietnam...
his brother Bobby stood up
for justice against the wheel...
both killed by the machine.
over 40,000 killed in Vietnam,
riots in the cities of America.
Nixon lied, America fell into stupor,
and those who believed
became part of the masses.
yet now, a turn for the worse!
/continued/
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Blind
Signs
Signs are lost
Signs disappeared
Turn invisible
Got no sign
Somebody got busted
Got a face of stone
And a ghostwritten biography
Dogs start to run in,
Hungry for some food
Dogs start a-twitching
And theyre looking at you
It was light
By five
Torn all apart
All in the name of democracy
Hes hurt
Hes dying
Claimed he was a terrorist
Claimed to avert a catastrophe
Someone shoulda told him
That the buck stops here
No one ever said
That he was involved with thieves
And theyre blind, blind
Blind, blind, blind, blind, blind
Blind, blind
Blind, blind, blind, blind, blind
No sense of harmony, no sense of time,
Dont mention harmony,
Say: what is it? what is it? what is it?
Give a little shock, and he raises his hand
Somebody shouts out,
Says: what is it? what is it? what is it?
He was shot down in the night!
Peopple ride by but his bodys still alive
The girl in the window what has she done?
She looks down at me ...
Says: i dont want to die!
And Im blind, blind
Blind, blind, blind, blind, blind
Blind, blind
Blind, blind, blind, blind, blind
Somebody could have told us where they go
Crawling all around looking for foot, foot, footprints
Now tell me what the hell have we become?
Some dirty little bastards what the hell is going on? u
No sense of harmony, no sense of time,
Dont mention harmony,
Say: what is it? what is it? what is it?
Give a little shock, and he raises his hand
Somebody shouts out,
Says: what is it? what is it? what is it?
He was shot down in the night!
People ride by but his bodys still alive
The girl in the window what has she done? she looks down at me ...
Says: i dont want to die!
Theyre blind and theyre blind
Blind, blind, blind, blind, blind
Blind, blind
Blind, blind, blind, blind, blind
Blind, blind
Blind, blind, blind, blind, blind
Blind, blind
Blind, blind, blind, blind, blind
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Man (And Woman)
if every man in America
could reach his own member
with his own mouth,
we wouldnt have a problem
with gay rights!
if every man and woman
in America knew they were
as responsible for their thoughts
as for their actions...
we'd all be on death row!
if every man and woman
in America spent as much time
trying to help their neighbors
as they spend trying to get ahead...
we'd all be taken care of!
if every man and woman
in America were color blind,
we'd have equality!
if every man and woman
in America were honest with
themselves, we'd have justice.
if every man and woman
in America got off their but
and on their feet
we could do something
about this mess!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Dont You Think It's Time?
children have rights,
women have rights.
lovers have rights.
people of all religions,
and even atheists have rights.
people of all colors,
speaking every language have rights.
trees and rivers have rights.
cats and dogs have rights.
cattle have rights,
homeless people have rights.
prisoners have rights.
democrats and republicans have rights,
even socialists have rights.
the jobless have rights,
old people have rights...
and the hungry have
the right to be fed!
damnit! dont you think it's time?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Bringing Triumph To The Brain
Advances in research depend
on unexpected brilliant breaks
the gods fortuitously send
not triumphs born of our mistakes.
Gruesome often is the fate
emerging from a triumph, but
mistakes will often impregnate
a barren mind that had been shut.
Although by blind spots we’re deceived,
and inspiration tends to wane,
errors that we have conceived
may bring triumph to our brain.
Inspired by Owen Gingerich’s review of Ingrid D. Rowland’s book “Giordano Bruno” (The Long Road to Infinity, ” WSJ, December 19,2008) :
Part of her purpose, she says, is to portray Bruno as a literary figure: “He was perhaps, more a poet than an empirical observer. Yet his intellectual contradictions, his blind spots and his insights serve as a reminder that scientific investigation has always depended on inspiration as well as investigation, on mistakes as well as triumphs.”..Ms. Rowland’s gripping chronicle gives a clear picture of his pilgrimage and a vivid, horrifying account of his trial and gruesome fate––in Rome’s public square.
12/19/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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