A poem by Peter White

I wrote this some years ago but it’s still relevant!”

 

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WHY I OCCUPY

Why I occupy
Let me tell you why
I am moved to really try
By a love force I cannot deny!

Every day I’m glad to be here
To see all the beauty and cheer
Unfortunately I can also see clear
And know that the End Game is near.

The Occupy movement gives me hope
That We the People will stop being a dope!
Humane change is possible if we cope
With politicians who are as slippery as soap.

The two Parties are a corrupt duopoly
They help the rich control their plutocracy
We cannot have a democracy
If more people are into a jockocracy!

The rich get richer and the poor get poorer
They get higher and mightier as we go lower.
Most elected Democrats and Republicans cower
To the ruling elite who have economic power.

We can teach the world to sing
In imperfect but loving harmony
With peace on earth being our symphony
Helping our neighbors in our community.

We each have a role to play
We have the freedom to have our say
We can live in the light and lead the way
To occupy our government and overcome some day!

Peter White is a long time activist in NH and a member of NH Independent Voters.

 

***

National Poetry Month 

At Politics for the People Continues

Do you have a favorite political poem that you would like to share? Is there an original poem you’ve written?  Please email me at cathy.stewart5@gmail.com with your suggestions for consideration.

Independents are Here to Stay

We have had a wonderful celebration of poetry throughout April, both chosen and written by P4P members.  Our poetry celebration continues with an original poem written by NH Independent Voters’ leader, Peter White.

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INDEPENDENT VOTERS ARE HERE TO STAY!

Hello everyone we’ve come to say

Independent Voters are here to stay!

Get up off your couches and join our way

And together for our Nation we will save the day!

 

We’re sick of the baloney the two Parties feed us

While their bosses on Wall Street are stealing with no fuss!

Our government is corrupt and a real mess

It is putting our democracy to the test.

 

We the People must rise up and start to lead

To demand what is right and what we really need:

Representatives that work for us instead of corporate greed

Who refuse PAC money, have integrity, and know how to read!

 

The US Constitution is what they should know

And the Bill of Rights is what makes our Country glow.

Open primaries are needed so our movement will grow

Until the PEOPLE SHALL RULE instead of the dough!

Ciudad de México by Jerry Everett

Our next poem was written by Jerry Everett.  Jerry lives in Florida.

Jerry Everett

Jerry Everett, Mexico 2015

 

Ciudad de México

 

Broad stones contain

Templo Tenochtitlan

Cathedral and Sagrario

The incompasing of mountains

 

There you steped to count the skulls

Laid out on racks in shining rooms

And so assecc the worthy men

Who hide from our lady of Tepeyac

 

Los Indio’s of careless art

Who pick up images wherever given

Who sell the flowers of the sun

And persist

 

The zero’s after their ones

Leave and walk the streets you left

Taking with them tomorrows roses

To redden a frosted dawn

 

In the one narrow path

North, out of the valley

Walk in peace

Away from the angry city

 

Red with stones in opposition

 

GRE – 2008

 

Re: The poem, some years ago Deborah Green was going down to Mexico City on business. I had gone down to Mexico and Belize with a friend back in 1972 and we had picked up a couple of students from the University of Mexico, in the DF, and they told us about the massacre of 300 students of the University of Mexico in 1968, by the military police. Just before the Olympics. The massacre did not take place in the central historic zocolo of Mexico City, but a smaller zocolo near the University. It changed my view of Mexico. The people there are so nice and decent on average you think they can’t have the problems that the news tells you they do. Still I could not see the stones of a zocolo (every Mexican town has one), but that I would think of the blood of all those people, on those stones. So when Deborah said she was going down to the DF for business, I told her to be careful. I went home and I was thinking of her job as someone who helped to make business negotiations, and of the central square in Mexico city and the giant stones it is made up of from Aztec times, and of Our lady of Guadalupe and the Indians, and the miracle of the roses, and the Spanish cathedral and the chapel there. It was all a bit of a swirl, but on the way home I saw a guy in a light coat in the freezing weather and he had the facial features I know are Mayan. So when I got home I put all that in a poem. What Mexico did poorly it kept, what it did beautifully it sent to us. Those who try to change those things are killed.”

Our celebration of National Poetry month continues throughout April with poems chosen or written by P4P members.  

Tiani and Kira-mother and daughter-write two poems for you

Today we have two poems–one from Tiani Coleman, the President of New Hampshire Independent Voters and one written by her daughter, Kira about the experience of growing up with a mother who is a political activist.

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Tiani and Kira Coleman, 2011

 

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 “I wrote this poem as an expression of my political and life journey.”  –Tiani Coleman

Voyage to Independence

 

Born, with dreams.  Smiling.

The inner voice guiding – no worries

Do good . . . and it returns tenfold

Hope.  Joy.

 

The path is clear, progress constant

Foes exist to thwart – in theory

But there’s nothing to fear

In this black and white world if you choose the right

Always . . . Answers, safety, certainty.  Purpose.

 

Don’t risk, or veer.  It’s all laid out

For the fortunate few who know

The Truth.

Live it.  Hold it.  Defend and promote it.

Follow those who went before.  It works.

 

And so it was.  ‘Til the seasons changed.

Hope may spring eternal, but Spring doesn’t stay.  There’s Summer

Fall and Winter, too.  And all are needed for life to

Continue.  For new things to evolve.

 

Trusting.  Serving.  Blind, unawares.

Used, used and betrayed.

Confidence shaken.  It’s dark – cold.

In the void . . . carry on.  It’s

All you can do.

 

Cultivate the grey, intricate shadows.  They’re rich

With possibility.  And when the Light

Bursts down, life rises up in a

Beautiful embrace as never before.  Authenticity.

 

Not a beam of certitude . . . Rays of

Understanding.  Perspective:  gratitude, humility.

Empathy.

Not – us and them.  Harmonious contrasts.

Each and All valued.  Liberty and Equality.

Hope.  Joy.  Love.

Tiani Coleman

 

****

My Mother is an Activist

Kira Coleman

At nine o’clock I’m falling asleep

Under an armchair

at the headquarters.

My hair: spread across the floor

My fingers: about to be stepped on

My mother: still in a meeting.

 

She used to push me on long walks in a stroller:

just the two of us.

We must have walked every neighborhood in the county

given every house at least one flyer

 

At eleven I pushed that same stroller

full of my little brother and a Costco bag of candy.

We were in an awful lot of parades under that

summer sun.

 

We distributed an awful lot of little signs.  My grandpa,

I remember, at eighty-four years old pounding signs into the

desert clay

 

They lost the race, of course.

None of us had any other expectations

from their hodgepodge volunteer campaign

We understood even as children: they didn’t have

the money to buy the election.

They didn’t even have the money to pay my mother.

 

At seventeen I went to another convention

on my birthday.  I’d imagined a big

building — like the buildings we went to when I was three

but this was an independent convention.

This was a tent convention.

 

Still, it was the same conventional story

watching my little sister

 

Her little blond ponytail

pressed against the hard plastic seat

Her little pink coat standing out against

all the actual politicians in the room

she wondered just like I did —

 

Mommy, when can we go home?

Kira Coleman

Kira Coleman

 

Afterward:  Kira Coleman, 17, is a junior in high school and the daughter of Tiani ColemanTiani Coleman was elected Vice Chair of the Salt Lake County Republican Party in 2001 and Chair of the Salt Lake County Republican Party in 2003.  In 2010, she agreed to be the campaign manager for Hyer for Congress, running on the Democratic ticket, challenging Representative Jason Chaffetz (R-UT) in the most conservative district in the country.  In 2012, Tiani officially declared as an independent voter and began advocating for systemic electoral reform.  She moved to NH with her family in 2013, and is now President of New Hampshire Independent Voters.  Says Kira, “My mom asked me to write her a poem for the blog; when I told her that I don’t have enough political passion to write political poetry, she said I could write a child’s perspective.  It perhaps did not come out how she had expected… The perspective of a child on long meetings and lots of adults arguing about stuff is not bound to be particularly positive.  I would, however, like to note that I do have a lot of respect for what my mom does and for her motivation and integrity in the political world.  That being said, I have no intention of future political involvement.”

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Our celebration of National Poetry month continues throughout April with poems chosen or written by P4P members.  

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