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Friday, 06 September 2013

On the Subject of “Race”

By Marc Leavitt of Marc Leavitt's Blog

What is this thing that men call ‘‘race?” I’ve never seen it anyplace;
And can it run, or even swim? The notion’s wrong, a dreadful whim,
And yet, it pops up in the news, and stirs up pundits’ pompous views.
It started centuries ago, when Europe’s countries, at one blow
Found land to prey on ‘round the earth, built colonies, and stole with mirth;
To plunder well, or so we’re told, they needed help to rob their gold.

The natives didn’t look like them, so they devised a stratagem
To “civilize” the “savage” crowd, to teach them skills and make them proud
To serve the European “race,” to work them hard, make them embrace
The values learned from foreign bands who mocked their culture, robbed their lands;
The “new” world had a use for slaves from Africa across the waves,
To do the work in everyplace. But what about this thing called “race?”

The secret that they all abhorred? That man’s just man, a fact ignored;
The tall, the short, the white, the brown; mankind’s the only game in town;
Two arms, two legs, and eyes to see results of pure hypocrisy.
Each man is born and then he’ll die, the racial stuff is just a lie;
It’s based on Greed, the greatest wrong, that hurts the weak, exalts the strong.
The sweet idea of brotherhood, a concept rarely understood,
Remains an idea, it would seem, for most of us, a foolish dream.
We still judge people by their skin. And that mistake’s a monstrous sin.

[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post


SUPER poem, and so appropriate, coming so close to the 50th anniversary of the march on Washington and the I Have A Dream speech! There is only one race: The human race. -Vicki

Goodonya, Marc

Love this one. Thanks Marc.

Great poetry and sad truth too, we have even added bi racial and multi racial to our divisions...too busy to put that into rhyme..

As my Dad would say, "Call it like you see it." And I would add; Call it the way it is, sadly.

Great philosophy and great expression of it through poetry, Marc.

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