Showing posts with label Aung San Suu Kyi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aung San Suu Kyi. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Respect

 National Civil Rights Museum Memphis, Tennessee, USA
☯

"Self-respect without the respect of others is like a jewel which 
will not stand the daylight."
~Alfred Nobel 

"Let every man be respected as an individual and no man idolized."

“In societies where men are truly confident of their own worth, 
women are not merely tolerated but valued."  

“Appreciation is a wonderful thing. 
It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well.” 


Midweek Motif ~ Respect


In a time when disrespect is rampant, noticing respect is vital.  We can still be surprised by the millions of ways people (and nations) show respect for each other.  Let's spread respect today. Let's show it and praise it and trouble it and mend it.

Your challenge:  Compose a new poem about a positive instance of respect.  






miss rosie

Lucille Clifton, 1936 - 2010
when i watch you 
wrapped up like garbage 
sitting, surrounded by the smell 
of too old potato peels 
or
when i watch you 
in your old man’s shoes 
with the little toe cut out 
sitting, waiting for your mind 
like next week’s grocery 
i say
when i watch you
you wet brown bag of a woman 
who used to be the best looking gal in georgia
used to be called the Georgia Rose
i stand up
through your destruction
i stand up

                             (there’ll be days like this.) — The Shirelles
These folks ’bout to respect me into the grave.

At eighty Mama said, (mama said)
           “People think you change when you’re old
             but you still got a girl inside.” 

And men could see her, too 
         — that pink silk dress —
soothe that hotel bellboy
         “Boy, I’m old enough 
          to be your mama.”
He coy 
          “well, you ain’t.”

But seventy is prime time 
for me to own what “elder” brings.

I reap myself with the respect they sow.

They don’t know I got the road 
wide open in me.

Source: Poetry (April 2013)

I'm just an ordinary chap
Who comes home to his tea,
And mostly I don't care a rap
What people think of me;
I do my job and take my pay,
And love of peace expound;
But as I go my patient way,
--Don't push me round.

Though I respect authority

And order never flout,
When Law and Justice disagree
You can include me out.
The Welfare State I tolerate
If it is kept in bound,
But if you wish to rouse my hate
--Just push me round.


And that's the way with lots of us:

We want to feel we're free;
So labour governments we cuss
And mock at monarchy.
Yea, we are men of secret mirth,
And fury seldom sound;
But if you value peace on earth
--Don't push us round.

excerpt from My Indian In-laws

by 
I remember India:
palm trees, monkey families,
fresh lime juice in the streets,
the sensual inundation
of sights and smells
and excess in everything.

I was exotic and believable there.

I was walking through dirt
in my sari, 
to temples of the deities
following the lead
of my Indian in-laws.

I was scooping up fire with my hands,
glancing at idols that held no meaning for me,
being marked by the ash.

They smiled at the Western woman,
acting religious, knowing
it was my way of showing respect.
. . . . 
(Read the rest HERE.)

☯
Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and 
visit others in the spirit of the community—
Next week Sumana's Midweek Motif will be "Memories."

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Suffrage, the right to vote



Union française pour le suffrage des femmes 1909 poster.png
Poster of the French Union for Women's Suffrage (1909)
 (
Union française pour le suffrage des femmes
)
"French women want to vote - against alcohol, slums and war"

“I do not know if the people of the United States would vote for superior men if they ran for office, but there can be no doubt that such men do not run.” 
― Alexis de Tocqueville, Tocqueville: Democracy in America

“To view the opposition as dangerous is to misunderstand the basic concepts of democracy. To oppress the opposition is to assault the very foundation of democracy.” 
― Aung San Suu Kyi, Letters from Burma

“There is no such thing as not voting: you either vote by voting, or you vote by staying home and tacitly doubling the value of some Diehard's vote.” 
― David Foster Wallace, Consider the Lobster and Other Essays



Midweek Motif ~ Suffrage, 
the right to vote

Do you have the right to vote?  
When did you last use that right?  
Have you ever been on a ballot? 
What would you like to see on a ballot to vote for?  

Your Challenge: Write a poem that exposes and/or challenges suffrage. 





We walked five blocks 
to the elementary school, 
my mother’s high heels 
crunching through playground gravel. 
We entered through a side door.

Down the long corridor, 
decorated with Halloween masks, 
health department safety posters— 
we followed the arrows 
to the third grade classroom.

My mother stepped alone 
into the booth, pulling the curtain behind her. 
I could see only the backs of her 
calves in crinkled nylons.

A partial vanishing, then reappearing 
pocketbook crooked on her elbow, 
our mayor’s button pinned to her lapel. 
. . . . 
(Read the rest HERE.)

I am unjust, but I can strive for justice. 
My life’s unkind, but I can vote for kindness. 
I, the unloving, say life should be lovely. 
I, that am blind, cry out against my blindness. 

Man is a curious brute—he pets his fancies— 
Fighting mankind, to win sweet luxury. 
So he will be, though law be clear as crystal, 
Tho’ all men plan to live in harmony. 

Come, let us vote against our human nature, 
Crying to God in all the polling places 
To heal our everlasting sinfulness 
And make us sages with transfigured faces. 



I hold my ballot in my shaking hand
And say to myself: this is cause and effect.
The opportunity is so grand
I have spent all my life to expect.

You have lived in a free country, 

Here you and your ancestors were born; 
Your civil rights are numerous and sundry; 
Please do feel pity for the forlorn.


I had exercised my right to vote

In my native land’s first ever election: 
Illiterates did not know what cadres wrote; 
Bad factions led them to wrong direction.


Wanting self-rule, people grew wiser; 

The patriots just built a young nation.
But the invaders, however, were slyer: 
Elections were only to shield usurpation.

. . . . 
(Read the rest HERE.)



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