Tubman and Douglas

(in response to a letter from Douglas to Tubman contest)

 

Our hairs are curly

Our skins are black

These two features

Neither of us lack

 

But courage is another thing

Of which the two of us may sing

Praise of each other is due

But from without is another thing

 

We fight the battle at the risk of life

Either of us may succumb in an instant

You in the woods, myself in town

Your silence saves you, instead I rant

 

We live in fear of racism and hatred

There is plenty of that about

Our cause is just no matter our role

Our call must someday be raised to a shout

 

We must know that someday

Our efforts lethal but honest

Should be outspoken loudly

This inhumanity we must detest

 

We will not in our lifetime see

The repeal of this evilness of mind

In a thousand years hence

Bigots and racists we will surely find

 

Barbara Blackcinder

 

 

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The Offering

 

She offered me a prize; I could see it in her eyes

Tantalizing though it was, I felt I had to pass

Woe to me, for my thoughts I came to realize

She was only offering a little bit of sass

 

Barbara Blackcinder

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The Little Girl

I have a silly young girl in my yard

She runs and runs and tries real hard

I make no sense of what she is saying

I don’t need to know what she’s playing

 

Sitting a swing forward and then astride

Her quest for fun is not something to hide

And so I watch passively as she grows so fast

My only regret being that it can’t and won’t last

 

Barbara Blackcinder

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The Lasting Impression

 

No more, no more shall I see that face

No longer will I see it smile

Actions made that will not repeat

You have been gone now for a while

 

It’s all those little things that last

The way that you do like no other

A smile that suddenly appears

A body not like just another

 

Sure it has its pain intertwined

With a happy, gleeful vision

It is how I choose to remember

Though clearly not my decision

 

Barbara Blackcinder

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Offensive Is as Offensive Does

 

The crowds they are so offensive to me

Their long hair and bodies are hard to see

They talk too much about things I don’t know

Given a prod I’d tell them where to go

We had a country of clean and right people

Who honored our church and believed its steeple

 

Now they talk about creating a mob

My heart aches and I must cry with a sob

When will it end, their protesting and pride

Shall it ever return to where they just hide

We know the biggest instigator of all

If we kill him now all their temples will fall

 

I will pay it all to end their control

Can we sent them over a bloody knoll

Control their movements and so we will reign

We need to stop hearing them once again

And so we must remove this new savior

And go back to our Roman behavior

 

Barbara Blackcinder

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The Star Field

 

A spark shoots out as I strike a flint

As I grind on metal more result

But most are painless little flecks

And hardly raise much of a shout

 

There are many bursts of light in the sky

Many more stars than one can see

Billions upon billions spreading out

Forming billions of visible galaxies

 

It is pondered what is beyond

Our single spark of a universe

Beyond what we can see with our scopes

Or what if their course should reverse

 

It makes little sense to create new

Something which has been done

Why would we believe in a single event

How could there be but one?

 

And so we go beyond our sight

Into a mass of universes ever wide

Past a single spark of light

Where the rest of it does hide

 

Barbara Blackcinder

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The Swirling Winds

The wind that swirls around our feet
Surely moves us ever so sweet
But now it seems to be going around
Brushing our skirts up over the ground

The tastes of life within those swirls
Are precious gems and polished pearls
Yet to fade or to be hidden or soiled
Through all the years that we have toiled

But seeking more of the rapid treasures
Must now be taken in careful measures
As we are no longer fleet of foot
Having grown a very needed root

And so we hold precious and clear
To whatever we can so near
The memories of lives once so neat
Swirls once grasped while in the heat

Barbara Blackcinder

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