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| Social Commentary |
| Politics, Problems, and Policy. Share your views on current issues in the news. |
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uscgrad
Joined
Wed, Nov 15, 2006
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| Posted: Tuesday, October 7, 2008 8:39 PM |
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Bad Boy & Block Ent. Present "Don't Block The Vote"!
CHECK IT OUT:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XA83AOsJDvk |
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thelifeteller
Joined
Sat, May 26, 2007
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| Posted: Thursday, May 31, 2007 12:18 PM |
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, I was reading about the Apology for slavery in N.C.
My great grand Ma was a slave, had 3 sons by her master, I met her when I was 15yrs. old my mom had passed, she died 11/22/1963, the same day as J.F.Kennedy, she died that morning, JFK that evening,
I say that to say this, we lived in DC, born and raised; my uncle Thomas Johnson was the valet from Roosevelt to Johnson, so as I grew I had good things going on even though we were poor as jaybirds, then after I went astray got on drugs, and lived an addicted life for years, in and out of jails 2 times in prison, many ask what I thought about white people? When I reached out for help those who reached back were white because my black family was tired of my struggle, this is why I am writing this letter to say that when I was in prison struggling trying to find a reason for staying sober, a white man name Tim Crowley a stranger answered my call, my prayer, my screams to be sober and stay that way, but as I laid there in that cell with murderers like Susan Smith, Terry Moore, Elizabeth Parrish, to name a few, I got more and more numb to life because prison is not a nice place to be, its the self destruction that you see over and over again, I wore a smiling face but my prayers didn’t seem to be reaching those that I wanted to hear them, Id send 100’s of poems to people that would get on the TV and swear they would help if only the addict would ask for it, what a bunch of nothing, the Chaplin kept saying be patient, it was hard, to many of those inmates prison was home and as animals they protected they’re own, It was no different with me, they didn’t like change, where as I wanted change, Tim Crowley was my chance for change he sent me a letter to say he liked my work and he kept on saying it, he sent me a type writer I couldn’t have, I was not a lifer, lifers were the only ones that had typewriters, we couldn’t use other inmates property, they saw I was using my writing to try and better myself- do you think they cared, no! At every turn they tried to dissuade me, but Tim kept on writing me and encouraging me to keep the good work up, then he sent a release for me to sign, to put my poetry in his book, Poets for Peace, and it was awesome when I got my announcement, about the release of the book, then the book it self he sent 4 books they didn’t want to let me have, they said I could only have 1, but I fought that also I wanted my family to see I could be something else in life and prison, this would not of happened if not for Tim obeying his messages from God, I found out those whispers positive in nature are just words of wisdom from God to help us find our way, since I’ve gotten out of prison I’ve found that some strangers orra is so strong. You cant hurt other people by not obeying Gods whispers, I finally met Tim last year for about 1 hour on his way home, it was overwhelming, he is white I am black we hugged so hard I thought Id cry right there, this man didn’t have to reach out to me, see when I met my grand ma she told me the best medicine for the soul is forgiveness, she said if I can forgive, why cant those who would follow in her foot steps, at that moment I saw all people even clearer, I realized that good comes in all colors and I have to stand still long enough to allow the good in life to reach back, Today when I heard the N.C. had asked for forgiveness for slavery it touched me, then I started to read editorials questioning forgiveness, I say actions bring the healing, displaying what you fell because anyone can say it, and when blacks say that whites owe them something, I say this when I was in school and a child showed signs of weakness the bullies always saw it and moved on it, but all people aren’t bullies, and it takes time for others to see what others go thru, and when that time came and others be it white or black saw the weak, the pain, the strong came together, and it took time just as it took time for the weak, the slaves, to see tha |
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thelifeteller
Joined
Sat, May 26, 2007
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| Posted: Wednesday, May 30, 2007 4:34 PM |
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Abusing A Trust
It happened on a lonely, cold road, one night--I was trying to get home, high beams shining bright..
There weren't many cars on the road--I was being careful, obeying all the codes..
When the blue lights came up behind me--I stopped, I didn't want them to think I was trying to flee..
The road was dark, the only light was his--I did everything, I should of did..
This police man walked to my car, badge shining bright--I was scared but I felt I was right..
I sat there listening to what the Officer had to say--what I didn't know was this would come to be an awful day..
He spoke softly as he told me what to do--I tried to do what he wanted me to ..
I sat in his car listening to every word--not thinking he'd hurt me , he just wanted to be heard..
The officer said he'd give me a second chance--that was the start of this emotional dance..
Thank you! I said, as I reached for the door--his eyes told me, he wanted so much more..
The officer jumped from the car, ran to my side--as he grabbed me I cried..
It happened so fast, as my face hit the hood of his car--before I knew, the whole situation had gone to far..
He pulled up my dress, ripped off my underwear--I prayed for calm, as his hands were every where..
He did his business as he continued to threaten me--to him it was nothing, as he spoke calmly..
I was scared and never told--this secret I carry buried deep within my soul..
He said it would be best not to make a fuss--remember this was a police, but it didn't matter that he was abusing a trust..
By: Patricia Robinson--218/06--4pm ...
My Book-
God gives me these stories to tell, By- Patricia Robinson
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