Tag Archives: hatred

Sickened Again


I spent three glorious days with grandchildren. They lift me up in ways I cannot even describe. I sat to write some poems to post for the next few days. I was so engrossed in my grandkid’s visit that I did not watch the news or read a newspaper. I just heard of the mass shootings that have occured within the last 15 hours of so. I am sickened again. My heart hurts. I watched and listened to the expressions of the victim’s families. I am sickened again at the thought that a mother who was shopping for school supplies was killed as she shielded her two month old child. I am sickened to the point of nauseum.

Will this to pass in a few days after the media stops interviewing victims and victim’s families? I am sickened again because I know the answer. Nothing will be done. Nothing will be done folks.

Hatred is winning! Here is my poem to express my personal grief. I am sickened and identify with all the mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles and every other person who is as sad and sickened as I am right now.

Bang, Bang, you are dead!

Hatred still lives in some hearts!

How do we kill HATE?

What will take for true action to happen?

I am sickened. My heart hurts

Does your heart hurt too?

Then what are we going to do?

It is really up to us!

You have to know it’s true.

It really is up to me and you.

God help us all!

I HATE TO TALK ABOUT HATE


I want to make clear that my blog’s purpose is to present positive and inspiring poetry and art. That is my goal all the time. But today I hate the idea that I have to address the crazy hate manifested in the attacks on places of worship. Enough is enough. I also just learned this morning on a news show that a girl is in a coma after a person filled with hate decided to run over a group of people with his car.

Therefore, I need to talk about hate. I hate to talk about hateful behavior and give the hateful and vicious people that inflict pain, injure and kill the spotlight. It seems we always have an excuse for violent events or worse find a way to ignore the signs of hateful behaviors. It may sound naive but I prefer to talk about love and beautiful human interactions.

Frankly, my motivation for writing this post is my nanahood. I am a grandmother. I fear for the future of all children listening and watching the horrors of hatred, bigotry and injustice. Children are listening and watching even when we may think they are not paying attention. They are also asking questions.

The narrative is clear; we do not have to be divergent thinkers to understand that hate is present everywhere. It is expressed via all media. I mean I guess one can hate some things and that it would probably be a good thing. But sometimes we go too far to even hate the things we are suppose to hate.  This even sounds almost contradictory.

When I was growing up I was not allowed to say I hated anything, especially, when it came to food. I could not say for example, that I hated broccoli or spinach. I remember my older sister telling me she was punished for saying she hated her teacher. I mean who hasn’t at least thought in silence that they hated their teacher or broccoli for that matter.

So is it that the word hate is inadequate to describe what is happening in our country? All crimes are provoked by some kind of hate. Is it a question of semantics? Should we just call it what it is? Should we be more explicit and call hate racism or fascism? Should we call people evil? Are not some of these acts evil? What are the adequate words to describe inhuman behavior?

We label these deadly acts of violence as anti-this or anti-that, but aren’t they sheer cruelty and barbaric acts? I am tired of the labels and the synonyms we use to condemn these acts. I am sick of conforming to the notion that a conversation about this terror has to be more wide-spread. I hear people say we must continue the conversation. I think is started decades ago. We are privy to the fastest systems of communication. The conversation must turn into action. The question is what kind of action and who should initiate it.

We can speak out and pray all we want but what we need are real solutions. I don’t like the justifications we are given. The headlines or breaking news depict these horrific events as copycat acts. The culpable are either radicalized people or demented freaks. The reality is that anyone who plans a massacre or terrorizes a community is simply not right.

We must realize that indifference is the opposite of love. Hate is not just a word and neither is love for that matter. Divisiveness is a distinct and purposeful way to continue to attract more disruption and chaos.  Yes some people feel left out and disfranchised. We must do something about inequality. We must do something to help those who are desperate and mentally ill. We have failed as a nation in this regard.

I implore you to be a part of the solution. Each of us has the power to talk to each other, tell it like is and call out what is simply just wrong. Each of us can be the example of truth and love. Each of us can effect real change. I place my bet on you, the you individually and the you collectively who knows that we need to pull together now. We cannot wait one minute longer.

Pardon my selfishness but I want a world that my grandchildren will feel safe in and will be hatred free. Utopian perhaps. Hopeful, I try to be. Use this hashtag and join me in giving grandmothers a little hope. #Peaceforallnanas!

 

 

 

If I Could Cry


In a poem titled The Quarrel by Stanley Kunitz, he writes: “If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.” As I reread many of the poems of this Poet Laureate, I found some poems that resonated.

I have been feeling down lately. Sad because of the violence and hatred that seems to appear everywhere.  Sometimes I want to cry but I can’t. What good would it do anyway? So in honor of Stanley Kunitz I have written the following poem using a line from his poem The Quarrel.

 

She is just three and a half

but knows me so well

she could sense there was something wrong

with her beloved abuela*

who she calls “guela”*.

I did not want to tell her

what was in my heart

“If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.”

I thought about how lucky she is

to have all her grandparents.

What a blessing.

 

“If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.”

and I am too old to be beguiled

and sweet memories have been filed

away in a cloud somewhere.

 

“If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.”

What good would it do anyway?

Who listens to the cry of an orphan?

 

“If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.”

There is just too much to cry about.

There is no doubt.

Or is there?

“If I could cry, I’d cry, but I am too old to be anybody’s child.”

 

  • grandmother
  • grandchild’s way of saying abuela

 

 

Tragedy Strikes Again


I would be remiss if I did not offer my condolences to the families of the victims gunned down Wednesday while at a bible study meeting at their church in Charleston, South Carolina. It saddens me deeply that violence strikes again. I dread the questions my oldest grandson will have about this. What do you say to an eight year old who believes that church is a safe haven. For that matter that school is a safe place to be as well.

There are many issues at play with this particular incident. Or are they the same issues that come back to haunt us again and again. When will it stop? I believe that love will prevail. I believe that goodness strikes out evil. We need to take whatever time is necessary and talk to our children about what it is that makes us human. We must help them understand our biology. We all bleed the same. Our hearts (even when not very healthy) will beat to keep us alive. We all need to breathe, eat and sleep. We all want to be loved. We all need to love somebody. And when someone dies, it does not matter what language we speak; or what color our skin is, or what religion or faith we observe, we grieve with a hole left in our hearts and tears filling up our eyes. The love we feel is immense and never leaves us.

It is very simple actually this humanity of ours. We are built in a way that is so complex, interrelated, and interdependent that no one has been able to replicate what we know to be a human being.

The great phenomena is that it is indeed a very simple construct. We all need each other. Our diversity and our sameness is equally phenomenal. Senseless murder and violence hurts us all. One family member said, “Every fiber of my body hurts.” She lost a son who was her hero. Children are not suppose to die before their parents. It is not suppose to be the rule.

Our humanity must take charge and stand up tall and spread the word. We are one. A part of a whole. I am a part of you, of this planet, and you are a part of me. It is as simple as that. Call me a dreamer (I think someone said this once before.) but it is time that we take action. I know that I am not the only one. Love must win! Our humanity must be victorious.

 

“Peace is not a season; it must be a way of life.”

Survival