You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip,
Skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds
thinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.
There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.
Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and
women will not care if Dick finally gets down with
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.
There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom
Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be right back after a message
bbout a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your
bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver's seat.
The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution will be live.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
The Sonnets
CII
My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming;
I love not less, though less the show appear;
That love is merchandized, whose rich esteeming,
The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
When I was wont to greet it with my lays;
As Philomel in summer's front doth sing,
And stops his pipe in growth of riper days:
Not that the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burthens every bough,
And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
Therefore like her, I sometime hold my tongue:
Because I would not dull you with my song.
My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming;
I love not less, though less the show appear;
That love is merchandized, whose rich esteeming,
The owner's tongue doth publish every where.
Our love was new, and then but in the spring,
When I was wont to greet it with my lays;
As Philomel in summer's front doth sing,
And stops his pipe in growth of riper days:
Not that the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burthens every bough,
And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.
Therefore like her, I sometime hold my tongue:
Because I would not dull you with my song.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Friday, June 5, 2009
identity
I am rereading Julius Lester's book "On Becoming a Jew." Lester is a great writer and this story of his transformation to Judaism is riveting. I shared this passage from his book with my friend, where Lester, quoting Merton, speculates that"...identity is one's witness to the truth in one's life." And so, to steal a slogan, "we are all witnesses."
And then of course there is the philosophical conundrum that we are presented with..."Because we cannot "catch reality in our net," Wittgenstein radicalizes Kant's prescription that "we are neither suspended from heaven nor anchored on earth," by suggesting that Kant's dilemma has less to do with our position in the world and more to do with the more bewitching dilemma of speaking meaningfully about our position in the world." Thomas Merton's contemplation: rarefied emblem of being human and living in mystery.
What is true right now is that I am "Dad" because two little people call me so and I feel that responsibility. I still have to figure out how to speak more meaningfully about who else I am.
And then of course there is the philosophical conundrum that we are presented with..."Because we cannot "catch reality in our net," Wittgenstein radicalizes Kant's prescription that "we are neither suspended from heaven nor anchored on earth," by suggesting that Kant's dilemma has less to do with our position in the world and more to do with the more bewitching dilemma of speaking meaningfully about our position in the world." Thomas Merton's contemplation: rarefied emblem of being human and living in mystery.
What is true right now is that I am "Dad" because two little people call me so and I feel that responsibility. I still have to figure out how to speak more meaningfully about who else I am.
9:01
Life has it's rituals. Waking up at a certain hour each morning. Greeting or bemoaning the start of a new day with mediation and prayer. Some people call you at the same time every night. My sons consider cartoon watching a religious calling. I watch highlights of sports and news and consider 9:00 p.m. Central Time a special time. Why? My cell phones call are FREE.
Free, or the least expensive option, is pretty good right now considering the economic times. Free however is never free when it comes to talking to people. To engage in dialogue we make a contribution of our time and if there is one ritual that I love the most it is spending time with those who have meaning in my life. I like to feel connected, hear what's going on, listen to the other breathe and sigh and dream. To one of my tactile nature this is another way of me touching you. So during the week please feel free to call...at 9:01.
Free, or the least expensive option, is pretty good right now considering the economic times. Free however is never free when it comes to talking to people. To engage in dialogue we make a contribution of our time and if there is one ritual that I love the most it is spending time with those who have meaning in my life. I like to feel connected, hear what's going on, listen to the other breathe and sigh and dream. To one of my tactile nature this is another way of me touching you. So during the week please feel free to call...at 9:01.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Rhythmn
My boys are back for the month of June. Having them around I am reminded of how life takes on a different rhythmn. I have to get up earlier. I have to be more purposeful. I have to repeat myself, over and over (and over). My patience is tested. And yet I would have it no other way. There is so much space in my heart for them. I miss the daily rhythmn of watching them grow up. It is overwhelming to see how quick the physical and mental changes happen. Ajani is taller, Akil is maturing. I am praying. For their happiness, and for them to learn the life lessons without too much of the attendant pain. I may not be able to help that but in essence I want them to be strong and believe in themselves. And to have rhythmn. They do have that Caribbean heritage, and one must have priorities...after all.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Disappointment
It is easy to be disappointed in Obama. It will never be possible for him to live up to the high expectations placed on him by those of us who support him. He is very much the lover that will not fulfill all our dreams. We all have experienced disappointments at times...much like we have disappointed others and they us. It's just life right?
It seems to me that love and disappointment are almost complimentary. In fact I am reading "The Mysterious Life of the Heart: Writings from The Sun about Passion, Longing, and Love" and there is a passage in one of the stories that essentially says love is the art of managing disappointments. The lovers and dreamers amongst us know all about that. (Don't all sigh at once).
Anyway our President just gave a great speech, which is not unusual for him as we know. But I love the nuances in how he thinks and Andrew approves. Lets continue to love and be disappointed.
It seems to me that love and disappointment are almost complimentary. In fact I am reading "The Mysterious Life of the Heart: Writings from The Sun about Passion, Longing, and Love" and there is a passage in one of the stories that essentially says love is the art of managing disappointments. The lovers and dreamers amongst us know all about that. (Don't all sigh at once).
Anyway our President just gave a great speech, which is not unusual for him as we know. But I love the nuances in how he thinks and Andrew approves. Lets continue to love and be disappointed.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
My people
One of my favorite pictures. These are the people in my neighborhood. One is grandma, the other mom. One is gone now. The other is still here, and though we've had our ups and downs, she has my back. Still here...showing me the way.
Missing you
Today I sent a text to a friend. It simply said "sometimes I miss you" and, although you would never know it, I am very shy and so I felt very vulnerable. It's always about rejection is it not, when you decide to tell someone how you feel. Later, having lunch at my favorite location, I was talking to the owner about her son and she told me how mad he was at his father. His father has never "been there" for him and so, at the tender age of 24, he has decided that the non-existence of his father is better than recognition. I cringed.
I never wanted to be an absentee father. I am divorced and my two sons live in a different state. My father was not "there" for me. In fact, until I was in my late thirties I had never heard my father say the words "I love you." This story is not atypical and in many cases they are too much the norm. And then I though of my friend who I missed and remembered that she too had an absent father. We are all in this together. All wanting to give voice to our feelings of abandonment and wanting someone to miss us, to value us. I want my sons to know I miss and love them and my friends to know that I miss them sometimes. I want to be missed.
I never wanted to be an absentee father. I am divorced and my two sons live in a different state. My father was not "there" for me. In fact, until I was in my late thirties I had never heard my father say the words "I love you." This story is not atypical and in many cases they are too much the norm. And then I though of my friend who I missed and remembered that she too had an absent father. We are all in this together. All wanting to give voice to our feelings of abandonment and wanting someone to miss us, to value us. I want my sons to know I miss and love them and my friends to know that I miss them sometimes. I want to be missed.
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