image collaboration by Daniela Riojas and Nicolas Valdez
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Opening ceremony blessing
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Videos:
Carmen Tafolla at 100 TPC SATX
Roberto Vargas at 100 TPC SATX
The Valenzuela Brothers at 100 TPC SATX
Anastacio Palomo with The Jazz Poets
Poetry:
The Blues, the Whites, and the Reds (the Red, White, and Blue)
by, Eric Murillo
During this nations early days the cotton gins increased
the amount that slaves could produce many times more
And my sister is treated like a whore; touch her breasts to see if she can produce
For that master, for that money
Nearby they marching with shackles, somber like the start of a funeral march
Death comes to some during that long walk
In 1803, the Louisiana Purchase expanded American freedom for white men
And slavery creates more wealth that surely is a sin
Stolen lands and slavery are the source of our great prosperity
Yea the blues were born in this great land
Where humankind failed to recognize its own humanity
The racial divide did not afford certain people the wealth of Henry Ford
We got a history you see, that we bury in flags and brilliant Fourth of July skies
Pickin’ cotton
Livin on that ol’ plantation
Where the Southern gentleman played god
Yea this is the land of the blues, the whites and the reds
How does a child understand slavery?
When at the end of the whip is another being
Elegance and manners, proper Southern behavior
While outside with the light of the moon they work like machines
Political power comes from great wealth
And George Washington was just one in a line of slave holders to sit in the White House
Insure your slaves and head to Wall Street
Lords of the loom and lords of the lash
Built this country of blues, whites, and reds
Where the red human is killed in genocidal blues,
lusting for gold kinda blues, and it’s a cancer
And the white man grows stronger with each and every lash of the black back
And the expansion of the right to own property
Universal rights, equality, liberty, and justice for all
But in 2011 in this country Troy Anthony Davis had none
In 2012 Manuel Diaz
This year, Trayvon Martin had none
Every day, our sisters have none…
The land of the blues
The Whites
And the Reds
Where not long ago ships arrived on magnificent shores
Bearing strange fruit indeed
Cuz on rotten ships arrive rotten men
Lusting for wealth beyond humanity
Full of the insanity
That civilized this great country
With guns and disease
And a male dominated society
Freedom bells ring loud
And the Declaration of Independence stands proud
Independence without freedom if you ain’t the right kind
Wage labor arrives in great droves, hungry, thirsty, and tired
Where they stratify to satisfy the thirst of savage souls
You see, the white human being of a certain status was marginalized, exploited,
and told to fight with me
Nothing gained cuz we’re neighbors in poor ghettos, striking out at each other like desperate mice
in this trapdoor game with nothing to gain
The Mexican war was about expansion of slavery
In a land where Morelos and Guerrero had proudly shed the chains of that dreadful practice
But the land was worth much and in need of a new master
The compromise of 1850 sure smells a lot like SB1070
Gather up them slaves
Gather up them Mexicans
Round em up string em up
Along this trail of American ideals
On ancient trees that speak the truth
And whisper silent blues
To the workers in the fields
Toiling under dehumanizing conditions
Just like Juanita and her familia today
The Supreme Court justice proved justice was a farce in Dred Scott vs. Sandford
Held captive to a US Army captain
He offered to pay for his families’ freedom, when denied he tried to use the system
Instead the court said that his skin was a sin and he was nothing more than property
Shameful stain on liberty
It was because the wealth and grandeur of a folk was deemed more important
And that freedom that was born here
Still gives me the blues
As Wall Street still sells humans
And we celebrate their wealth
And their liberty to live above humanity
In this land of the blues, the whites and the reds.
********************************************************************************
United we sit and watch tv
raised to believe everything we see
and take it to heart
We are a nation oppressed by corporate intent
One nation partitioned under God’s borderless tent
Responding to mass produced conventional wisdom
Terrified the terrorists will blow us to kingdom come.
With mass hysteria befitting our conditioned attitudes
Well endowed politicians hypnotize with false platitudes.
I did not learn this
By listening to the worldwide news
All the reporters reporting the same agenda
All the underwriters undermining personal security
All the commentary leading to one universally understood conclusions: That’s the way it is: love it or leave it.
The two party system is anchored in concrete devised by our forefathers to make us feel equal while securing the power in the vested elite.
Two parties, one oligarchy, that’s the America we know and trust
God help us if the grid goes bust.
Our democracy functions best without “radical” influences
Stay tuned to the news and its coordinated confluences.
Before you exclaim, “Say it ain’t so, Joe!” my name is Gary and you really should know today’s poem is sponsored by Monsanto. The following things, we want you to know, are given: Nuclear power is dangerous, but technology will make it safe. Eventually. Most likely. Oil rules, and the only acceptable ethanol comes from corn. Low taxes make a great country – everyone should hate paying taxes. The United States is the most powerful country on earth. Threaten us and we will scorch everything you are worth. But you and I, we know better. United we sit and feel superior
Reading “the truth” in our feng-shued interiors.
We buy organic, cage-free food from local farmers.
We raise healthy kids, supplementing education with arts, wisdom and care.
We speak up. We vote. We wear natural fabrics, bike and recycle.
We appreciate wise and reasonable pundits delivered by chosen media.
We read. We create art. We express an optimistic aura of fairess and stuff.
We do not want to believe that it’s too late.
We lean in. We speak, write and accept responsibility for our opinion enough to actively advocate.
Some are willing to stand before pipeline bulldozers, backed by many thoughtful pray-ers.
We arrest the environmental degradation by preserving green space and observing best practices.
As our children become adults
we marvel at their clear willingness to face the challenge. Some of us are pure. Some of us.
United we sit watching lit screens, each peering into a machine to engage faraway friends through pixelated images bounced off satellites 10,000 feet in the air, blithely unaware of those closest to us.
United we sit and watch tv.
by Gary Whitford (2013)
**************************************************************************************
With God on Our Side – Bob Dylan (with additional lyrics by Don Mathis marked by*)
by Don Mathis
Oh my name it is nothin’
My age it means less
The country I come from
Is called the Midwest
I’s taught and brought up there
The laws to abide
And the land that I live in
Has God on its side.
Oh the history books tell it
They tell it so well
The cavalries charged
The Indians fell
The cavalries charged
The Indians died
Oh the country was young
With God on its side.
The Spanish-American
War had its day
And the Civil War too
Was soon laid away
And the names of the heroes
I’s made to memorize
With guns on their hands
And God on their side.
The First World War, boys
It came and it went
The reason for fighting
I never did get
But I learned to accept it
Accept it with pride
For you don’t count the dead
When God’s on your side.
When the Second World War
Came to an end
We forgave the Germans
And then we were friends
Though they murdered six million
In the ovens they fried
The Germans now too
Have God on their side.
In the nineteen-sixties
came the Vietnam War
Can somebody tell me
what we’re fightin’ for?
So many young men died
So many mothers cried
Now I ask the question
Was God on our side?
I’ve learned to hate Russians
All through my whole life
If another war comes
It’s them we must fight
To hate them and fear them
To run and to hide
And accept it all bravely
With God on my side.
* Things are different today
in this new century.
It’s so hard to figure
who is our enemy.
Can’t trust our lawmakers.
You know they have lied
while the media tells us
that God’s on our side.
* From this Midwestern boy
to the Mid-Eastern son,
it all seem so simple
to distrust the Muslim.
The truth is so slippery
and facts, they will slide.
But one thing’s for certain.
His God’s on his side.
But now we got weapons
Of the chemical dust
If fire them we’re forced to
Then fire them we must
One push of the button
And a shot the world wide
And you never ask questions
When God’s on your side.
In a many dark hour
I’ve been thinkin’ about this
That Jesus Christ
Was betrayed by a kiss
But I can’t think for you
You’ll have to decide
Whether Judas Iscariot
Had God on his side.
So now as I’m leavin’
I’m weary as Hell
The confusion I’m feelin’
Ain’t no tongue can tell
The words fill my head
And fall to the floor
If God’s on our side
He’ll stop the next war.
**************************************************************************************
WAR OF ROAD SIGN WORDS
by Catherine A. Lee
A section of Route 90
runs through the fertile
Jordan River Valley
where citizens of Israel
cross Palestine
heading south or north.
To educate the future,
and commemorate
a favorite fallen leader’s legacy,
in 2005 Israeli Knesset legally renamed
this freeway “Gandi’s Road.”
This Tourist Minister in 2001 had been
retaliation killed by gunmen of the PLO.
In Kibbutz school, one night the youth
named Rehavam Ze’evi,
shaved his head and went to dinner
dressed in just a towel.
The prankster’s nickname,
Gandi, stuck.
But no, this Gandi namesake
is not a peaceful man.
Rather he, a Zionist,
claimed 180,000 Palestinians, one-fifth
the native population, lived
illegally in Israel,
“a cancer” that should be
removed one way —
“the same way you get rid of lice” —
or another —
making Arab lives so miserable
they’d volunteer to leave.
These road signs point
a route in words to war
that surely sticks it to
the Jordan Valley’s
oldest ethnic residents,
and world opinion
ever clueless
to this hate-filled joke.
***
Organizer: Viktoria Valenzuela
Contact: queenviktory@yahoo.com