Friday, July 14, 2017

Newly minted president bullied his way into the White House, and now he is a lost baby in the world actual politics in Washington, D. C.



U.S. President Donald Trump
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
 -------------------
  
Out of 250 million registered voters, 63 million voted for Donald Trump for president. To this day he cannot reconcile losing the popular vote to Hillary Clinton. Trump devotees were convinced that he could and would save them. At campaign rallies Trump’s exuberant flock cheered his every word. Their enthusiasm suggested that Trump would heal their broken spirit, making them whole. They wanted to feel like they are a large patch of America's quilt again after eight years of isolation and abandonment. The main characters in Trump’s off Broadway show was the famous character actors named “Fear and Victim.”

White folks in interviews said their lives got away from them, but that was not their fault. The forlorn feeling is because President Barack Obama deserted them. White folks said for eight years that Obama did not care about them; he only cared about Black folks. The media considered White folks America’s true working class, now frustrated by marginalization.  That was the repeated meme in 2016. With the election of  realtor Donald Trump the same voters immediately proclaimed: “We got our country back!” When Obama was president they wept, whimpered and whinnied that they had “lost” their country. President Obama destroyed America, civility and their way of life. The speedy recovery and return of “their America” was magic.

In the New Yorker magazine writer David Remnick wrote an article titled “Obama Reckons with Trump’s Presidency”. Reading the article my eyes locked on a paragraph written by author Richard Porty, and quoted in Remnick’s article. The paragraph rang as true today as it did in 1998.

To his supporters Trump projected himself as their strong man. His negotiating prowess was akin to a gun welding gangster making an offer that could not be refused. Trump affirmed while campaigning: “I am your voice. I can fix it. I will restore law and order”. Talking to an all-White audience Trump scolded nonpresent African Americans, telling them they had nothing to lose by voting for him. The rallying White folks enjoyed the thrill of his words. For a minute they forgot they were the true victims. I write this last sentence with sarcasm.

“The nonsuburban electorate will decide that the system has failed and start looking for a strong man to vote for—someone willing to assure them that, once he is elected, the snug bureaucrats, tricky lawyers, over paid bond salesmen, and postmodernist professors will no longer be calling the shots. One thing is very likely to happen is that the gains made in the past forty years by Black and Brown Americans and by homosexuals, will be wiped out. Jocular contempt for women will come back in fashion. … All the resentment which badly educated Americans feel about having their manners dictated to them by college graduates will find an outlet”.

Trump put more bait on his hook with the promise: He's going to show voters how to get rich. As president he is going to be such a winner, voters will get tired of him winning. Supporters believed Trump because he is a successful businessman, who knows how to make money. These rebel rouser ralliers believed that Trump was the answer to their prayers.  God could take a vacation. Trump was their blessing. 

Had these mainly Red State folks committed to researching Donald J. Trump’s past they would have discovered some useful information. Early interviews with magazines, newspapers and on radio disclosed that  in 1999 Trump thought about running for president on the Reform Party ticket. Once upon a time Trump was a Democrat, but he flipped to Republican to run for president of the United States, a tasty morsel he has been dining on since the 1980s. That's 18 years of  contemplating.  

Trump chased after and barked at the car, caught with it, and had no idea how to drive it.  Ernest Benn, writer, publisher and publicist said, "Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it whether it exists or not, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedy".  No, he did not know Donald Trump, who wanted President Ronald Reagan to appoint him ambassador to the USSR. His ego told him that he could resolve the Cold War  in a day. Reagan took care of the dilemma himself.

Trump intended to run in 2008 against Hillary Clinton, but Barack Obama blocked him. Trump knew that he could not buck or bully Obama, nor could he beat him. Trump considered a run in 2010, but again, Obama was his firewall. He was certain that with the birther brouhaha, media focus, and White folks hating Obama, he could sprint towards a presidential home run.

When Trump said that he could teach his followers how to get rich, I laughed. It did not occur to them
Donald Trump
that Donald J. Trump was born to millionaire parents, and a father that supported his projects by loaning him millions of dollars to start his own business. Never mind the bankruptcies, and his inability to acquire loans from banks in America, due to his habit of not repaying loans in full. When his businesses drowned, Trump renegotiated the loans. Rather than chance not getting any of their money back, the banks compromised and caved. 


Trump’s cultish followers did not want to know about his failed business record that  revealed he is not a good businessman. They did not want to know that he does not own the businesses bearing his name. For a huge fee he licenses his name. None of his Trump labeled merchandise is manufactured in America. The same rule of thumb applies to Ivanka Trump and his wife Melina. He and his adult children are using the presidency to fatten their pocket books.

Trump told his followers that he understood their plight. He promised to stop jobs from leaving this country. He promised to revive the coal industry in Red Sates. Every American is going to get “beautiful” health care insurance that they can afford. Trump is hell bent on building a “big beautiful wall” to stop illegal Mexican immigrants from crossing the Southern border, bringing crime with them. “Mexico is going to pay for it!” he announced confidently. “Believe me!” No American money will help defray the cost. The “big beautiful” wall will have a “big beautiful door” for immigrants to re-enter America legally.

Presidential candidate Donald Trump talked Mafia tough all the time. He was the Godfather of campaigning. He dogged and bad-mouthed his opponents. They did not retaliate. The media and pundits helped him throw rocks at Hillary Clinton. The media have been attempting to knock down Bill and Hillary Clinton for decades. 

With the help of the media that gave Trump millions of dollars of free advertising,  the one note candidate slimmed his way into the presidency. When he won he did not alter his belligerent tone. Trump's skin did not thicken, making him immune from criticism. His early morning tweeting is nonstop. His lying is still consistent. He does not have a relationship with facts or history, and he demands constant flattery, positive press and loyalty.

All-in-all Donald J. Trump has been in office for six months but it seems like six years. His term begin with a scandal involving Russia hacking the DNC’s computers. Wikileaks released the emails to mud smear Hillary Clinton, and to help Trump get elected. The Russia/Trump scandal is breaking with new information every day. However, Trump is in deep denial and attack mode. He will not deny his male crush on Russia's President Vladimir Putin, who he refuses to attack.

A businessman without a company, or board or headquarters or hundreds of employees, Trump does not answer to anyone but himself. He thinks that being president allows him the right to break whatever laws he wants to, and not be punished. He thinks he can run America’s government like it’s his personal business. A Republican controlled Congress and Senate are standing on the sideline with their arms folded, allowing Trump to be the loose elephant in a fine china shop. 

Donald Trump is filling top positions with novice millionaire and billionaire bankers, lobbyists, family members and other people who have vowed loyalty to him. With the exception of his family, Trump campaigned against these hires and swore that none of them would be a part of his administration. He said would clean the swamp when he arrived in Washington. He lied. The swamp is bigger and deeper than ever, and Trump takes a swim in it every day.

Thursday, June 22, 2017

From my literature corner: Women Poems with Heart, Tears, Sadness, Rejection and Abandonment

Not What It Takes
Poem by Patricia 

When I was thirteen
I noticed myself becoming a woman
or what I thought was a woman then.
My first time I was allowed to wear make-up
I experimented until it was so heavy
that it’s a wonder my face
didn’t fall,
It was so thick.

I rode around and around
the block on my bicycle
where my first boyfriend lived.
I was hoping he’d notice
That now I was grown.

So I thought.

On one trip around the block
He finally came out of his house
And hollered: HELLO
So, I stopped.

He took one look at my make-up
Red lips and all,
and laughed.

Well, I knew then that’s not what it takes
To be a woman.



She
Poem by Chrystal

When she is asleep, she dreams
Of a lot people round her
But she can’t communicate with them.
It is as if she is invisible.
She wants to scream or move in some way
So she will be like them.

If she could just get her sister or mother
Or anyone to just touch her, she would be reality
As they are.

There are many people around her talking
And laughing.

They think she is in their presence and they talk
To her. They don’t know she can’t reply back.
They think she is normal
But she is not.

If someone would just touch her
She would be in their company
Mentally and physically.

She fights desperately and finally wakes up.
She wakes up frightened.
Why does she dream this so often?
What does it mean?
Where is she at?

Doorway 
 
I can’t stand his face
because the doorway
is always closed.

Myself,
can’t let me see inside.

Doing Something Wrong


As a child I was always
doing something wrong.

Not because I was Black
but because I was a girl
and not a boy.

I didn’t like it, 
being a girl. 

Hark
Poem by Peggy Sue


Little Miss Muffet
Sat on her tuffet
Smoking her pot that was dusted.

Along came a spider
And sat down beside her
And hailed:

Hark! I’m a narc
And you’re busted!

A Sense of Love   
 Poem by Sandra


The grandchildren haven’t turned out
The way we thought they would.
Their parents are hurt and angry,
Ashamed, and worried about it.

I’m not.
I like these kids the way they are, 
Open and honest, disorganized and gentle,
Scruffy and kind.

They don’t seem to mind spending time
With me. We talked about real things:
Dreams, peace, the sky.

They tell me living
Is more important than accomplishing things.
I agree.

Their parents are outraged by this.
So I don’t go into it.
I say the kids came.

The parents say, Good. At least
They have a sense of duty.

I think they have a sense of love.

(C) poems from “So I Swung: An anthology" of work by women in the Travis County Jail, (Austin, Texas) 1978

It can't Be Love  
Poem by Zandra Diane Holmes


When we talked, I never seemed to listen.
When we loved I never shared the passion.
When we walked I never walked beside you.
When we laughed I faked my smiling gesture.
But when we argued, I awakened.

Marian Anderson
Poem by Loretta Campbell
Black Forum, 1978



She opened her mouth to sing and 
the DAR called the FBI,
who called the CIA, who called the KKK,
who burned a cross in her honor.

She opened her mouth to sing and                 
little Black girls went from
Baptist churches to voice teachers and
lined up outside the Met waiting for
the doors to open.

She opened her mouth to sing and
the White House turned up its hearing aide
while Eleanor pulled her chair up closer
to hear a revolution.

She opened her mouth to sing
and the winds of change whistled through
the crack in the Liberty Bell.
America heard a symphony in the first note.
   
© poems from Black Forum, Fall/Winter 1978  

*** Note: On April 9, 1939 opera singer Marian Anderson, who could not sing in all-White opera houses. She was barred from hosting a concert at Constitution Hall because of her race. This what the poem is about. The protest against Anderson was activated by The Daughters of the American Revolution. First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt resigned from the DAR in protest. She helped arrange for Anderson to sing at the Lincoln Memorial.


of her choosing
Poems by dorothy Charles banks
From “Black Maria”, 1979


e/z tears flood
her eyes nearly drownin
her face, washin
away Maybelline eye lashes
that waved good/bye, so long
As did her lover

and she chose to go insane
Rather than lose him

Rather than be a/lon and
lonely, watchin happy teevee 
commercials


Rather than suicide herself, seeing
him no more                                                        

she asked me, her best friend:
ain’t that nothin
showin how damn weak I am
showin how silly I am
choosin to go n/sane
cause my cheatin man left me
leavin me outdoors
but still in love with him

leavin me weepin and grovelin
at his feet, beggin for a
little kindness from him

he didn’t give me an explanation
I deserve to know his
reason for leavin me

but he did tell me in a hateful voice:
“Bitch, yo’ ass is all the 
way out of my life! Forever and ever!
You too fuckin weak and needy!”


his words stabbed hard at my heart and soul
 but I still love him with 
my bleedin heart 
my bleedin soul
I can’t even weep for myself
I hurt so much

ain’t that nothin?
I mean . . . 
ain’t that really nothin?


Cold poem unwritten

I’m trying to write
A cold poem cause
Men keep telling me
I’m cold.
I went to Alaska
To meditate 
And wait for a cold poem
To freeze itself
Inside my head.
3 days later
I left Alaska and 
The cold snow, 
Returning to the states,
Poemless and colder 
Than ever.

(C) by dorothy charles banks

I Have Decided
 Poem by Mary McAnally
From the book “We Will Make A River” 

 

I have decided that I own my emptiness
It is mine.
I can tap at the roof of it
with the tip of my tongue.
I can thrash around in it
when the bowels of the night
rumble across my forehead.
I can imprison it between my thighs.
I can lure it out of me
for several delicious moments
and gaze at it
through the windows of my wrists.
I can turn up my collar
and let it shrivel me to noting.
I can hurl it across the caverns of the moon
and wait for my cycle to bring it back.
I can wear it on the ark of my consciousness
or let it simmer out the corners of my mouth.
No one can fill it but me
Nor spill it across the fine silk web of my days.
This emptiness is mine
and I own it.




Drag Assing

drag assing
ass dragging
the hot ground
cause she too lazy too
prance like she is
full of self confidence.

Miss Marymay saw her one day
and fussed at her for
dragging her feet.

“Stop a minute, young lady! 
You looking awfully
Like a flat-footed hussy
Who ain’t in a hurry
To get nowhere!

''Pick your feets up like you
supposed to do, girl!
I know your
Mama taught your better!

“You supposed to walk
On your feets
Not your ass!

“Lift your feets
Off that sidewalk and 
Strut like you got some pride!”

(C) by dorothy charles banks


The Closet

Poem by Peggy Scarborough  
from“Family Violence”, 1982


Moonlight Publications
There in the closet tat whispered
I’ll be good, Momma. I’m sorry
Over and over again
A little girl lay fighting demons
With tears lapping under her chin
I won’t be bad anymore, Momma
I won’t be bad anymore
I’ll be your good little girl again, Momma
But none opened the door