Poetry Project, v. 11.0, days 22-23

OK, so it's time to begin looking at a new part of healing.  Healing the world in which we live.  I know, it's crazy.  How can a poem heal the world?  It's the question we've been asking all month here, and maybe we're closer to the answer, maybe not.  My goal isn't to supply an answer here, only to help supply questions, and maybe, from there, we can make some progress.  Maybe.  That would be awesome.

So, when thinking about the world's problems, we have to consider all of them: economics, cultural suppression, sexism, racism, warlords who keep their nations in poverty - the problems are many, and they are severe.  We are privileged, here, in that we can choose to avoid some of these issues, if we so desire.  That is really the nature of privilege: we can look away from the things we don't wish to see, and look towards something else.  I am privileged, in that I can sit here and write words rather than live in those conditions.  That is really the crux of it: being able to look past our own concerns, to understand and help heal the wounds of this world.  Can we succeed?  I hope so.  But I know if we don't at least try, then we don't have much hope that things can get better.

Day 22: 

elevator

three people,

strangers,

hailing from different lands,

all here for the same thing:
a chance at something better,

something whole,

a job.

one is smarter by far,

one has a better smile,

and one looks like the boss,

he'll get the job,

and all of them know it.

it helps that he's from the same fraternity.

and his career

puts two others on hold.

he didn't make the system.

but we all make systems to benefit our goals,

our loved ones,

and make life better for them,

forget everyone else.

achieve the goal.

who cares what happens to everyone else?

except,

we're supposed to care,

and be better.

Day 23:

I had an experience a couple of years ago, where I got to stand on the top of a mountain, a national observatory.  Looking across the valleys below, knowing how close i was to the border, it made me consider the land, and what the folk crossing the border were willing to do to get to a better life.  It's a truly inhospitable place.  How bad must it be if this was what they were willing to do for a chance at something better?

kitt peak

desolate,

barren,

the land of opportunity for some,

and all i can see is the harshness,

the hardness of the land.

our views are so different.

all i can see is the sand and the stone,

light scrub brush

against the reddish dust.

there is nothing there.

and only a few miles away, 

someone is trying to get here,

to this,

because right now,

this is all their hopes and dreams dare to believe is possible.

We all have hopes and dreams.  When you realize that one person's dreams are another's nightmares, it changes your perspective on things.  I still do not know what it means to have those kinds of dreams.  Mine are different.  But I can only imagine how bad it must be elsewhere to make the barren desert seem like a good thing.

Thanks for reading,

Me