OCCUPY TULSA – PROTECTING THE DREAM

OCCUPY TULSA – PROTECTING THE DREAM

His dream is our democratic awakening
Through peaceful demonstration we celebrate the man
Inspired by his principles and teachings
In the spirit of his dream we make our stand

His message for jobs is our message
His war opposition our theme
His belief in social justice and equality
the root of our movements beliefs

The quality of humanity stands threatened
wealth inequality eradicates our core
Our middle class drifts into large black holes
As starvation wages despoil

The poorest of poor grow poorer
While corporations as people grow rich
Political undertones rape voter rights
Inequality in education still exists

Race has no place in American rights and laws
Poverty has no right to our shores
Disproportion can no longer bulldoze our dreams
Imbalance won’t pillage our core

His movement is now our movement
His message of resolution our text
We occupy for jobs peace and freedom
We occupy for equality and truth

He marched for economic justice
We occupy to flush corporate greed
Void violence he marched for freedom and peace
Void violence we occupy for change


By: Shirley Howard Hall

THE PLEDGE

THE PLEDGE

I pledge allegiance to the nation that was,
To my forefather's plan for a democratic ride.
To "We the People", to "Fourscore and Seven"
To the liberty bell's underground.

And to the violent republic for which we stood,
(The one that took innocent lives.)
To Viet Nam, Afghanistan, Iraq, the Sudan
(We are told it's for freedom they die.)

One nation under God has changed a bit,
The umbrella's tilted south,
Instead of interring the blacks and the reds,
We're attacking the bronze and the brown.

Indivisible with liberty we stand our ground,
Inequality and separatism abide.
Our blue collar heroes die wrongful deaths,
While our white collar leaders survive.

And justice for all is a thing of the past,
No more room for the tired and the poor.
Lady Liberty's light shines dimmer now,
Humbled masses seek alternate shores

In spite of the path we aimlessly tread,
We are still one man one vote.
It still reads, "We the people",
It still says "In God We Trust".

So I pledge allegiance to liberty and justice
And "to the republic for which it stands."(¹)
To "one nation under God indivisible." (¹)
Every child, every woman, every man.

I pledge to stand up for the red, white and blue
To prove that our banner yet waves.
To endlessly fight for freedom and peace
In this land we call free, we call brave.


(¹)"Pledge of Allegiance"

From the book: "ONE DAY" by Shirley Howard Hall

DIABOLICAL MASS

DIABOLICAL MASS

Satan stages his murderous cry
agents of genocide rise and comply
rapist, slayers, predators, whores
permeate Darfur’s shores.

Pray to your demons of high and low
follow your leaders wherever they go
the snake of death, the weapon of choice
in their screams and pains rejoice.

Now reap and weed revelations joys
rape and molest young girls and boys
transcend nations both near and far
despoil wreck and pillage Darfur.

Disregard governments, armies, and clans
snub out the glorified fife and drum bands
there’ll be no resisters to stay the attack
federations ignore black on black.

Fight within Satan’s reach and control
board the stage and play the role
make savage love to the mad and wild
be blessed with Satan’s child.

Evil surely doth dwell within
sin is often ones closest friend
dance upon iniquity’s star
their bodies and souls to mar.

SAVE DARFUR

©2007Shirley

DEPORTED

DEPORTED

illicitly
you eradicated my very existence
divested me of all
that was good in my life
amputated my freedoms
pilfered my citizenship
labeled me terrorist
radical activist
deported me vicariously

in the name
of homeland security
you
confiscated my happiness
smitten my wife and child
exiled and forsaken me
to a land I’ve never seen
to a tongue I’ve never spoken

I patriot
wartime veteran
born upon the humbled shores
of this great nation
did I not fret the drudgery
of your illegal wars
slave within the
bowels of your blackened mines
does my man-child not
bear the names
of your great leaders

I beg thee
in the name
of homeland security

rip the breath
from my asbestos filled lungs
singe the lesions from
my cancerous skeleton
bash this skull
of post-traumatic disorders

for
the gates of hell
are far more beguiling
than to be labeled terrorist
exiled and deported
to a land
I’ve never seen
to a tongue
I’ve never spoken

DESPOILED

DESPOILED

Youthful fluids rush
her aging body
immoral pleasures storm
her evil soul
wickedness bestows
an inapt darkness
lustful forces
grasp engage control

Iniquities flaunt
deities of satan
a naked boy
a sullied bathroom floor
for love of teacher
educator mentor
a virgin’s sperm
a classroom savvy whore

A cold forbidding sky
now in the making
blood drenched and bruised
a young boy heads for home
in lieu of love
compassion, understanding
he’s left adrift
and raped
he’s all alone

©2008Shirley

TRAFFICKED

TRAFFICKED

Be still my love

the pain shall pass
as pleasures bliss
beguiles you to
my side

your painful cries
will hypnotize
as threats of death
subside

I’ve killed you once
my precious

I’ll kill you yet again

you’ll die
a thousand deaths
and more
before this madness ends

be still my slave
my puppet

we’re doing this my way

spread wide your legs
and smile –

that’s right

I speak and you obey

©2007Shirley

STILL NO CHANGE

STILL NO CHANGE

I feel your fingers
gently maneuvering
along my inner thigh,
warm against my brand
new cotton gown.

No! Not again!

I’ll tell this time
I swear I will.

Everyone will know
and you will die!

Loving hands fondle
my never touch place,
hard knuckles stroking back
and forth, in and out,
making me sad all over,

I’ll cry this time,
they’ll see the tears
I swear they will.

Everyone will know
and you will die!

Passionately your tongue presses hard
against my dried and broken lips,
ripping and tearing with
every thrust,

I can scream
I know I can,
Someone will hear me
they’ve got to hear me,

Stop! Please stop!
I’ll tell this time
I swear I will.

Everyone will know
and you will die!

Sounds,
voices in the hall,
I hear them,
they are coming
they will stop you!

They’ll see my tears,
they’ll hear my screams,

Everyone will know
and you will die!

“Good morning ma’am”

“Good morning and
how is she today?”

“still no change ma’am,
still no change.”

©2007Shirley

THE MUSEUM

THE MUSEUM

Bodies beguiled and hung on darkened vintage
death epitomized in hand carved wooden frames
models of planes contrived for powerful killing
chronicled weapons laid out on display

visions of Auschwitz flaunt Stuthof and Dresden
discerning history’s genocidal flares
inferring history’s blatant incarnations
killing machine descendents feign ensnared

tyrants evince pride through social bondage
labor intensive servitudes inflame
governments endue a sullied freedom
slavery hovels death’s surmised disdain

archeologists tell our gruesome story
photographers expose our flagrant wars
Africa, Europe, North and South America
museums collect the ugliness of it all

curators brandish genocide’s repugnance
patrons lexical genocidal pains
artist flaunt the history of our lineage
a chattel sold, an economical gain

lessons learned abstain from social justice
no captured joy amidst the archived pain
atrocities now pictures hung for viewing
museums foretell our lessons learned in vain

BARTERED

BARTERED

hunger diminishes me
thirst demurs my thinking
the life I tote astounds my frame
defiles my craved existence

upon this block I bargain
my soul inflamed in shame
two arms two legs a beating heart
for barter sale or trade

need I de-school my life for you
sodden in filth and shame
striped of essence and being
my famines on display

this vast judicial hellhole
is all I have to give
the land and people that I love
beheaded, raped and killed

the blanket is included
I wove the yarn by hand
he’s got no Aids or HIV
he’ll grow to be a man

my solitary jewel
ten toes on tiny feet
to wet the stench upon my tongue
for bread a square of meat

I do not thrive I won’t survive
militias rule my land
I’m traumatized and hungry
my crisis is my stand

upon this block I bargain
my soul inflamed in shame
two arms two legs a beating heart
for barter, sale or trade

REVOKED

REVOKED

We ask you kindly to leave this place
We no longer want you around.
Your chiefs and leaders equivocate
Our authority remains propound.

Your armies harass and pilfer
Your security teams rape and kill.
You’re holding no one accountable
For the blood my people spill.

This is the place our forefathers braved
Where thousands of ancestors died.
You destroyed everything they accomplished
With your browbeating, loathing and lies.

In the midst of our political crisis
Statewide resolution absconds.
Our leaders are wadding the waters
As our tribes and our clans slowly drown.

Is my parliament made up of puppets
Controlled by your margins and bounds,
Whilst your coalition provisional pundit
Remains unabashed and profound?

Don’t sell me your internal hearings
Your assessment’s no more than a ruse.
This is my country my homeland
To hell with your canons and views.

Everywhere people are dying
Our civil war isn’t a joke.
This bloodbath you created is over
Your license has been revoked.

From "ONE DAY; Life, Love and Controversy in Middle America
by SHIRLEY HOWARD HALL

ADULTERY

Where were we meant to be
in the yesterdays of our lives?
is fate so fragile that time alone
has changed our course?

in love we came together,
open hearts and anxious minds.
in inert reprisal we grew apart,
open hearts and anxious minds.

nostalgia now surrounds us
in this subtle place and time.
whilst waves of fury entrenched within
are eating our souls alive.

does life offer no more than rampage?
does fate protect the enraged heart?
must our lives belong to someone else?
are we void dignity, void pride?

where were we meant to be
in the yesterdays of our lives?
in love you blindly took my hand
I held your heart in mine.


©ONE DAY; Life, Love and Controversy in Middle America 2008
by Shirley Howard Hall

MISSIONER

Poverty overwhelms me
garbage makes me spew
my body pangs, my stomach aches
I’m indigent, cold and crude

your bibles are a blessing
yet reading is a chore
when your illiterate, cold and hungry
and sleeping on a floor

your angels are angelic
in their omnipotent shades of white
yet I’m the shade of ashes
and demons rein my nights

I roam the streets of cities
I’m vagabond and whore
society looks down on me
your churches lock their doors

I’ll be your pure of spirit
I’ll sing a hymn or two
just bring some bread and water
old clothes a pair of shoes

your kingdom of heaven awaits you
your meek shall inherit the earth
you’ll rejoice and revile in your reward
for you are the salt of this earth

yet you don’t understand my fortitude
or acknowledge poverty’s pain
you turn your back when I appear
you fear my touch might stain

teach me the ancient scriptures
we’ll pray for me and you
then drag a box beneath a bridge
one big enough for two.

From the book "LISTEN"
by Shirley Howard Hall

WORKLESS

I miss your

morning greetings

rewards

throughout my day

the challenges

your scripts impose

the benefits you paid

bestowing incentives

for bonus

rewarding each year

with a raise

enriching each hour

perfecting each task

applauding my genius

through praise

all I could be

you challenged

you broadened my outlook

my views

provided food, clothing,

and shelter

my dreams and ambitions

infused

in a world of global recession

at the realm of depression and gloom

my career, my job, my future

all gone

laid-off

andI miss it

©Shirley2009

VOWS

In holy matrimony
poverty rapes me
to have and to hold
in rancid tent cities
cold hungry and seething
in rat tainted alleys
I human it demon
at hells bleeding door

for better for worse
an ineffable darkness
in spirals of nakedness
sickness and health
in ribbons of hopelessness
women and children
in shelters on breadlines
as poverty’s whores

for richer for poorer
to loathe and admonish
lead paint and malaria
I pledge thee my troth
before god and witness
damn poverty’s vision
forsaking all others
damn poverty’s fame

in nuptial repugnance
privation consumes me
my rodent gnawed fingers
it brands with this ring
now begging on street corners
rummaging dump sites
now wed and impoverished
I whore in its name

SIRE

daddy believes in me
loves me with incest
grinding and gifts
from rich people stores

in morning time sunshine
like teacher in evening
like uncle at bedtime
on cold bathroom floors

his little princess
her perfect angel
his favorite niece
in pretty pink bows

despoilers of spirit
they defile and abuse me
in secretive places
so no one will know

that my daddy loves me
with unlawful fervor
like uncle at bedtime
his own little whore

©Shirley2009