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CounterPunch
POET'S
CORNER
September
14 / 15, 2002
NEWS FROM LITTLE ROCK
by Tony Christini
The biggest News I do not dare
Telegraph to the Editor's chair:
"They are like people everywhere."
The angry Editor
would reply
In hundred harryings of Why.
Gwendolyn Brooks,
from her poem "The Chicago Defender Sends a Man to Little
Rock" describing life in Little Rock, Arkansas in 1957 when
Central High School became the site of the first federally-enforced
court-ordered school integration. 40 years later President Clinton
returned to his home state to commemorate the occasion, while
essentially ignoring the poverty and violence in the area. During
the first three days of Clinton's four day stay, four young black
men aged 17 to 23 were murdered in Little Rock not far from Central
High-an outbreak of violence that had been foreshadowed less
than two months earlier by a drive-by shooting near Central High,
the third such shooting in a five-day period that also saw the
killings of four black youths.
What happens to a dream deferred?
does it explode?
Langston Hughes, "Harlem"
Your door is shut against my
face,
And I am sharp as steel with discontent
Claude McKay, "The White House"
My days are not their days.
My ways are not their ways
I don't think they dare
to think of that: no:
I'm fairly certain they don't think of that at all.
James Baldwin, "Staggerlee wonders"
I.
Historical the print deluge
not once before nor since so huge--
the president preached claimed he cared-emotion trite and tripe
none spared
at Central High in Little Rock
where justice first was forced and won.
Reporters praised in nonstop talk the proud returning native
son--
so sanguine suave a specious
bit on stage displayed-adorned bright lit--
slick mugging presidential tears for racial gains of forty years.
He harkened to the Mayflower-he
mentioned Ellis Island too.
To sanction patriotic power he flung around clichés half
true.
He lauded then the Little Rock
Nine (and rightly so their story told
how brave they crossed the color line thus much deserving glory
bold)
yet spoke no word at Central's
door about reversing flight from poor
though wealth had fled from center town-of monied flight he'd
not talk down.
The city splashed fresh paint
around to try to make the streets look swell--
a surface fix meant to confound to fool the cameras fool them
well.
II.
To see this dog and pony show-the
community house would not go--
avoided by its radio crew whose workers shrugged refused the
view--
no steadfast earnest union
troupe-to delta scattered far and back--
no ACORN no New Party group nor least of all four men dead black--
forgotten buried shunned no
shock four young men killed near Central's block
that noble week in Little Rock-that joyous week in Little Rock.
III.
The governor proud proved quite
lost explaining what his daughter wrote
on visit to a holocaust memorial-these words of note--
"Why didn't somebody do
something?" she simply marked and then again-
"Why didn't somebody do something?"-young poignant
words from poignant pen.
The governor declared-"In
silence we left and I knew she got it."
Then as if in prayer-calm intense-he offered up this plaintive
bit--
"I hope that never does
someone have to ask why didn't someone
'do something.' " He meant it too. You might wonder if he
truly knew
four young folk died-one week
alone-a mere few blocks right down the street.
He spoke as if he'd never know-as if some facts he would not
meet.
IV.
Reporters none walked down
old streets to hear how people wish to live.
So busy hugging loud elites the mainstream news could no one
give
to ring a bell or knock a door
to sit on porch and learn the score
to gather round a kitchen plate a living room and there relate.
Though folks might raise concerns
cold blunt-by asking wise reporters could
in lively talk without affront learn far more than they thought
they would--
real word collect-of dire import-upfront
street tales fresh thought live wit--
true human needs and cares-in short a worthy text no PR skit.
Of news like this the press
won't dare-keen poet Gwendolyn Brooks once found
exactly forty years from where those young men died near Central's
ground.
Disaster there ignored by all-remember this take time recall--
proud polis papers president-how much we care quite evident.
V.
The press not much the world
reveals with cheap words clever false appeals.
Much life that matters now-forget. Most news goes elsewhere--no
regret--
or slants twists lies omits
distorts-by corporate will-sheer force-directs
slick chatter from sleek ruling courts thus base and gullible
infects.
While corporate suits work
to disguise the coins they steal from dead men's eyes
the economic system fails to fill life's gaps-it fills grim jails.
Neglect that which small profit
gives-elected representatives-
owned by vast wealth-are sternly told. Despair and trouble soon
unfold.
VI.
The president preached claimed
he cared-emotion trite and tripe none spared
so sanguine suave a specious bit on stage displayed-adorned bright
lit--
slick mugging presidential
tears for racial pains of forty years
four young men dead-news took a walk while vapid presidential
talk
besieged those gathered close
around where media intent were found
to note each smile and mark each frown but made no note of death
downtown--
from neighborhoods our eyes
they turn-so many killed such sparse concern--
forgotten buried shunned no shock-unmentioned by official talk
that noble week in Little Rock.
Forgotten buried-wonder why-
four young men killed near Central High that joyous week in Little
Rock.
Tony Christini teaches English at South Texas Community
College. He can be reached at tcchristini@yahoo.com
A MONUMENT TO WAR
by David Krieger
The last century, a monument
to war, won't end.
It keeps marching into the future, adding tears.
Fathers don't know what to tell their sons,
But the dull and smiling leader knows:
Find the enemy and kill him.
Patriotic words always mean
that someone soon
will die. It's carved in solemn stone.
And him may be a mother or her sweet child.
The bombs don't calculate, they only
Seek the enemy to kill.
There is no beauty in war,
nor decency, nor
Wisdom. There is only force and blind obedience.
Bombs fall, children die and generals are celebrated.
In the public square new names, new sacrifice,
Promises of peace give way to war.
David Krieger is director of the Nuclear Age Peace
Foundation and author of Choose
Hope: Your Role in Waging Peace in the Nuclear Age. He
can be reached at: dkrieger@napf.org
KINGDOM COME
by Doug Giebel
"C-punch" you are
one mean fellow.
To irk Geo. Bush won't make him mellow.
'Twill merely turn his instincts black,
The more to bomb poor old Iraq.
Now here's the thing we ought to pledge:
Go lead the tanks: Rich Armitage!
And fronting missiles that we hurl,
Send forth the man, Good Richard Perle.
Why should the armchair generals wait?
To hell with any more debate.
If terrorists we would make numb,
Let's blow the World to Kingdom Come.
Doug Giebel can be reached at: dougcatz@ttc-cmc.net
AGAINST WAR
by M. Shahid Alam
Let's mourn our dead in style
this day.
It hones the will to do more damage.
The evil doers have raised
their heads.
We must inflict the greatest damage.
We have no quarrel with the
Arabs.
But war is war, there will be damage.
Let's send the boys to fight
and die.
For all that oil, it's worth the damage.
We've laid them out, row upon
row.
Take heed, or we will do more damage.
Of victims there's only one
kind, ours.
All their dead are collateral damage.
Shahid, they ask me why I hate
wars.
What's to hide, I dread the damage.
M. Shahid Alam is Professor of Economics at Northeastern
University. He may be reached at: m.alam@neu.edu.
Copyright: M. Shahid Alam.
A LAMENT
by Amelia Peltz
Cycles of violence
Cycles of blame
The never ending horizon
Of racist hatred.
What are these forces at work
That conspire to drive us
Apart.
Powerful men
Shaping the ideology
Controlling the discourse
Bending our world until it
Cracks and breaks
Along the seam of humanity.
Lovers separated
Friends divided
By the artificial boundaries
Created between us.
"But wait," you scream,
"Racism! Colonialism! The oppression of the dispossessed!"
Everything is political
And indeed it is.
Does that mean humanity is political too?
Arab terrorist
Jewish soldiers of occupation
The cycle of hate goes on.
And what about those of us
Standing together as
Brothers, sisters, lovers, and friends
Standing upon the fault lines of humanity.
Will we be swallowed up
And consumed by the earth?
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust.
Will this be the final chapter?
Or do we have the
Courage
Strength
Grace
Wisdom
To leave the cycle
And enter the circle.
The circle of
Hope
Peace
Joy
Love
The circle
Including everyone
Excluding no one.
My lament, my prayer, my hope
May the shape of our world reflect
The shape of our humanity.
Amelia Peltz writes from Palestine. She can be
reached at: atpeltz@attglobal.net
Today's Features
Paul de Rooij
A Glossary
of Occupation
James C. Faris
Riefenstahl
at 100:
The Fascist Aesthetic
Gary Leupp
Presidential
Honesty on Iraq
Tarif Abboushi
A Conversation
with My Arab-American Self
Ron Jacobs
Shelter
from the Storm
Rick Giombetti
Paxil
and Addiction
Krystal Kyer
From NAFTA
to CAFTA
Another Rotten Trade Deal
John Jonik
Overcome
in Philly
New
Print Edition of CounterPunch Available Exclusively
to Subscribers:
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Anything to Get Harken and Halliburton
Out of the Headlines;
- First Hilliard, Then
McKinney: Jewish
Groups Target Blacks Brave Enough to Talk About Justice in the
Middle East; Intimidation
is the Name of the Game; Smearing
"Insane" McKinney As Muslims' Pawn;
- The Missing Terrorist?
Calling Scotland
Yard: "Where's Atif?"
- They Never Booed Dylan!:
Tape Transcript Shows
Famed Newport Folkfest Dissing of Electric Dylan Not True. The Catcalls were for Peter
Yarrow!
- New Shame from the Liffey
Shrike
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