If you've ever been to a performance at the National Hispanic Cultural Center, you probably have come into contact with the always wonderful David Rivera! http://www.dukecityfix.com/profiles/blogs/builders-and-makers-david-rivera
I heard that sometime within the next five years, there will actually be more guns in the U.S. than people. Is there no turning back? Must we live with instant death forever? How crass have we become? Is there a tipping point?
Margaret Randall continues her work here in Nob Hill and world-wide. She is an invited guest at the upcoming poetry festival in Granada, Nicaragua.
Their teachers pass out crayons,
tell stories to calm their fear,
are willing to die
trying to save them
and die beside them instead.
A hundred thousand paper snowflakes
infuse their town with solace.
A president comes to console.
a national conversation begins.
No stories or crayons, no snowflakes
or national conversation
for Chicago’s children:
just as tender but black or brown
murdered each night by violence
unremarkable in ghetto land.
Every south side street
cradles the body
of some mother’s son,
some kid who might still have time
before answering the call
to greater madness.
Bullets pierce air and walls
and the heads of youngsters
who might have grown
to be teachers or doctors
might have been able
to go to patriotic war.
And from such war
each evening’s news
of the drone attack
where weddings looked like
terrorist training camps
or schools were mistaken for convoys.
We mute the sound, fearing
the tipping point
may ruin our dinner.
A tipping point is a curious thing
as it settles between the left
and right sides of the brain.
When the pendulum returns
to its indifferent center
and we return to life as it was
we might ask ourselves
if it really was a tipping point
--Poetry submissions are welcome. Email email@example.com.