Photography by Bill Dahl

by Bill Dahl – 2011 – ALL Rights Reserved

Hey there Ms. Metaphor!
What do you mean?
With vestments of language
You reveal the unseen.

I ponder your musings-
What appears as a token.
A hidden new meaning -
Invaluable – unspoken.

I turn from your image-
A moment to reflect.
Disparate concepts
You serve to connect.

Scattering seeds
On the soil of my mind.
Implanting curiosity
So tender and kind.

As you gracefully sway,
Waltzing with Know.
I cut in on the dance -
Yearning to grow.

Lost in the melody,
Enchanted by your eyes.
I’m famished for more.
So gentle  – so wise.

My fingers touch the page,
Adoring the language configuration.
Deeply grateful for the reality -
This is not my imagination.

Your pulse inhabits
The paragraph on this page.
Thank you Ms. Metaphor.
For being our sage.

On the outskirts of certainty,
Bordering the shadow of a doubt.
The obscured pathway is hidden,
Leading beyond and out.

“Don’t you dare go out there!”
“Don’t even think about going near.”
The voice of certainty speaks,
Defending the status quo with fear.

“Stick with us and you’ll be fine.”
“We’ve got everything you need.”
Suspicion abruptly arises within me,
Bullet proof conviction contains a tone of greed.

Answers, responses and retorts.
Are these folks capable of reflection?
No wonder people just like me
Are considering defection.

Zip-Locked Gospel.
Regurgitation of firmly held belief.
Behavior trips on lip-service,
Detainees seek relief.

Doctrine on lockdown.
Inmates hold the key.
Eyes blind to confinement.
Captives on bended knee.

Litmus of liturgy.
Morning rays penetrate the cell.
A sound whispers within the intrusion-
The echo of a distant bell.

Mustering the courage,
I peek with one eye on a whim.
I catch a fleeting glimpse,
The shadow of a hymn.

Bible black as coal.
Breath of Life measured in pounds.
Too feeble to embrace you.
Reluctance that confounds.

Unrelenting restlessness,
Convicted that there is more.
I released the chains I held.
Staggering out Wittenberg’s door.

Strength returned to my wings.
I leapt from my perch.
I soared above their heads,
Out the window of the church.

Toward the bell in the distance…
An unmistakable tone.
Joined along the way by others,
Deeply grateful I’m not alone.

Closer now…
the bell’s coming into sight.
A chorus of voices come from nowhere.
We soar in ceremonial delight.

The warmth of the updraft,
Lifted higher by the breezes.
He comes into view…
The Music Maker Himself – It’s really Jesus.

As you ponder your posture on your perch,
Wondering whether to come out.
Contemplate the outskirts of certainty,
On the border of a shadow of a doubt

Hold Out Your Hands!
“To receive all that God wants to give requires we release those things that we grip (and that are, remember, gripping us) and open our hands to receive what God wants to give.”[i]

Little One

Mommy and Daddy had a fight today.
It was really loud – in a most unusual way.
I heard them very clearly,
Every word they had to say.

My little brother came running in,
Tears of fear ran down his left cheek.
He jumped up on my lap,
Startled, afraid, innocent and meek.

“We can’t make ends meet!”
We heard daddy yell.
“I can’t live like this!” he shouted.
“This economy’s gone to hell!”

We could hear mommy,
Sobbing in depression,
“What are we going to do?
To survive this recession.”

We peeked out my bedroom door,
Daddy hugged Mommy tight.
He ran his hand through her hair,
Comforting her plight.

Dad just got laid off,
Mom works just part time.
The best parents in the world.
This recession – it’s a crime.

“Our savings are all gone,
I wish we could borrow.
All our credit lines are maxed.”
He shared with mom in sorrow.

“The equity in the house;
It’s gone or going south.
“We’re going to lose our home,”
He raised his hand, covering his mouth.”

“Bailing out Wall Street!
Billions for the largest banks.
Rescuing sub-prime borrowers.
Where’s the help for families in our ranks?”

My mom and dad used to be happy,
The joy was delirious.
We had so much fun together,
Now it’s way too serious.

When your house is worth -
less than what you owe.
Why should mom & dad keep paying?
Why don’t we just pack up and go?

Dad:”We can’t even sell,
With all the homes on the market.”
Families in mainstream America,
We’re the bulls eye in the target.”

Mom: “Should we sell the house,
We’ll get a 1099.
We’ll owe the IRS —
This law’s outlived it’s time.”

Dad: “Friends and relatives are hurting.
What’s a family to do?
Does Congress understand our predicament?
Will they come to our rescue?”

Mom: “With our health insurance gone,
We cannot get sick.
Don’t spend any money whatsoever,
Until this economy begins to click.”

Mom burst out in tears,
My little brother began to cry.
As I reached out to comfort him,
I caught my daddy’s eye.

Mom and dad surrounded us,
We hugged on my bedroom floor.
“Please help our family —
We can’t take this anymore!”

Walking Home From School

I was walking home from school today,
When something caught my eye.
“For Sale” signs are everywhere.
I began to wonder why.

Maybe folks don’t like it here.
Perhaps some people just need a change.
It’s unusually quiet now.
Gosh – this is really strange.

Jenny’s dad was just laid off,
Her mom works just part time.
Jenny overheard her parents say,
“We’re down to our last dime.”

My friend Junior, he has asthma.
Sometimes he struggles to get air.
His parents can’t afford his medicine,
They have no healthcare.

I am passing Mr. Jacobsen’s,
“This economy really blows!”
He remarked to Mr. Johnson.
“A real recession I suppose.”

Mr. Johnson walked toward the fence,
As he shut off his hose.
“My banker said this morning,
The credit markets froze.”

Katie’s mom was at the mailbox,
As I approached I could hear her sob.
What’s the matter Mrs. Brown, I asked.
“I just lost my job!”

Miss Koski chatted with Mrs. Fern,
She spoke softly, almost paternal.
“I’ve never seen it quite like this,”
As she waved her Wall Street Journal.

As I turned right on Elm and crossed the street.
A man emerged looking quite distressed.
A truck was towing away his car,
His bank had repossessed.

He wandered out into the street,
He brandished one middle finger high.
As he watched his car go down the road,
Behind the tow truck guy.

As he turned I recognized his face,
He wasn’t angry, he was awfully sad.
I began to run toward him.
To comfort my own dad.

He put his arm around me,
As we walked toward our front door.
“What’s the matter dad?” I asked.
“Can we go to the store?”

Mom was seated in the living room,
Her face – a shade of red.
She held a tissue in her hand,
Soaked with tears of dread.

My dog Barney lay in the corner,
Head on paws, he didn’t move a muscle.
He always jumps up to greet me,
Engaging in a joyful bustle.

Mommy rose and smiled at me,
Tears twinkled in here eyes.
When Daddy joined our family hug,
I began to realize.

Somehow, life has changed,
In these unsettling economic times.
I express my own observations,
Writing these little rhymes.

We didn’t go to the store tonight,
Dad said, “Let me explain something honey -
Our family is really hurting.
We’re terribly short on money.”

I always enjoyed shopping with my dad.
For me, a source of joy and thrills.
We can’t do that anymore.
What we have must pay the bills.

I learned something walking home today,
A lesson they don’t teach in school.
Republicans or Democrats -
Everyone can use this tool.

In a world full of viewpoints,
Regarding who, what, when and whether.
My family’s no exception -
We’re all in this together.

Peering behind us through the fog,
To the past, from present day.
I wonder what our forefather’s would think.
I Ponder what they might say.

Their incredible design,
A melting pot we would be.
Oppressed in other lands,
“In the U.S.A.  you ‘ll be free!”

In just over two hundred years,
My oh my how things have changed!
The wisdom of simplicity becomes complex,
Hearts hardened and rearranged.

Wars, partisan politics, and fear
We’ve become adept, wielding the sword.
The wealthiest nation on the planet,
We’ve idolized the necessity to hoard.

What are we attempting to keep?
Our motives seem rather odd.
Hope cannot be quarantined.
Giving freely is the essence of our God.

Fences, raids and deportation
“Keep them out! Take them away!”
The heart of America has spoken!
Evidencing hardness, and decay.

The songs of history seem to change -
Echoing the soul of our nation.
Perhaps it’s time to change our tune -
Sing a new harmony about U.S. immigration.

This new tune will require unlearning,
Poor attitudes we have sung in the past.
Our concert performances can be revamped -
Orchestrated with love; destined to last.

Lift your voice today my friends,
Belt out love from your heart.
A love for the other,
Those filled with hope for a new start.

It’s time to sing a new tune America -
A harmony that moves beyond all the confusion.
We can and must sing a new song,
Or remain mired in immillusion.

Lurking covertly,
Within the shadows of a doubt.
Dubiously suspicious,
If we will ever work this out.

Befuddled and betrayed,
Thrashing amidst waves of confusion.
Is U.S. immigration reform a mirage?
Have we succumbed to Immillusion?

Perhaps, I’m simply naïve;
A citizen who believes we must solve this thing.
I believe in liberty and justice for all.
The day we let freedom ring!

Streets filled with joy and laughter.
Our nation’s heart reflected on our face.
Celebrating citizenship for the others among us,
Surrendered to the extension of God’s grace.

Millions enduring unnecessary oppression,
Counting on us for their release.
We hold the keys to their cells,
Unlocking citizenship will be our peace.

A nation suffering from cardiovascular disease,
Well known as hardness of the heart.
We espouse freedom and democracy abroad,
As immillusion continues tearing us apart.

Counterintuitive as it may seem,
The notions I ponder as I pray.
Perhaps it’s not what we must keep,
But what we shall decide to give away.

The malady of immillusion,
Clogs the arteries of our Nation’s heart.
The cure may require a dietary change,
Giving thanks may be a start.

Vision is a must.
Solutions begin as a mirage.
It’s time for innovation
Not park it in a garage.

Ten to twenty million,
Nobody has a solid number.
His creations are in our midst!
God, awaken us from our self-righteous slumber.

Unforgettable lessons,
Voices from our Nation’s past.
Once again, I yearn to hear the voice that cries,
“Thank God Almighty, We are free at last.”

He is here. He is among us.
Weeping over our confusion.
God Almighty please forgive us!
Lead us out of the land of Immillusion.

Millions living among us.
Children walking to school.
Pledging allegiance to our flag,
Wondering about the Golden Rule.

Gray market employment,
Wages less than fair.
Economically exploited
Do U.S. citizens really care?

Separate and unequal.
Millions forced to hide.
Living and breathing hope,
The reality of immipartheid.

Liberty and justice -
For some but not for others.
Tears flow from the hearts,
Of undocumented fathers and mothers.

Legislative limbo,
Has established a segregated people.
The majority gathers on Sunday,
To worship beneath the steeple.

Self-righteous, fear-laden fervor,
Legitimizes what observers find so odd.
Is legislated oppression
Condoned by Almighty God?

Mere existence in our midst,
Adjudicated guilty without trial.
Tolerating our own intolerance,
Comfortable in our denial.

Illegal’s, criminals and aliens -
Terms used to demonize their plight.
As undocumented men and women,
Clean America’s offices at night.

Powerless to advocate an outcome.
Silently adrift in this life’s boat.
Perhaps we might lend a hand,
They’ve earned the right to vote.

What about the bi-lingual students,
Those who excel in English, science and math?
Teachers for the next generation,
Absent citizenship’s path.

Excuse, piled upon excuse -
Buried in dishonest justification.
Eliminating immipartheid
Shall provide oxygen to our Nation.

Let’s wipe out immipartheid,
Courageously approach this fundamental task.
Let’s lift the veil that obscures the truth,
We can’t hide behind racism’s mask.

Building our homes, harvesting our crops
With hammers, picks, hoes, and axes.
Employers take deductions from their pay
And fail to remit the taxes.

Counterintuitive as it may seem,
Our attitudes must make a shift.
Unraveling immipartheid,
May contain our greatest gift.

Children of One Maker,
Created equal one and all.
We mighty one’s must bend,
To help the disadvantaged when they call.

Can we continue going on,
Looking the other way?
Unwilling and unrepentant,
Is Immipartheid here to stay?

The whole world is watching.
Will our hollow slogans become action?
Resolving immipartheid,
Restores U.S. integrity with traction.

The duplicity of it all,
Is the essence of what I abhor.
“Liberty and Justice for All!
Yet, immipartheid we ignore.

Oh, sweet land of the free.
Home of the brave.
Let’s eradicate immipartheid!
This must become our rave.

Rise up America!
It’s time to face the blame.
Rid our land of this disease.
Immipartheid is its name.

The ExitusPhoto by: Joe Finlinson – www.codefin.net

Nukes are under development in Tehran.
Iraq’s an undeclared civil war.
Poverty and disease ravage the African continent.
Heads buried in the sand; all attempting to ignore.

Polar icecaps melt at world record pace.
Bode Miller’s Olympics was a disgrace.
Muslims take revenge upon the world over a caricature.
Everyone’s attempting to save face.

The Enron trial has started.
GM and Ford restructure and rearrange.
China and India loom as the next superpowers.
Man! How quickly things do change.

To realize there was a time,
Upon this Earth His seed was sown.
I wonder what He thinks about all this right now?
About us, His seeds, who have grown.

As infants we were dependent,
Suckling on mother’s breast.
Mom wished we would hurry up,
Become self-sufficient, like the rest.

Then there came that moment,
When we could reach that stuff up on her shelf.
The beginnings of reaching into parental pockets,
The formation of me and mine: The prerequisites of self.

Schools, career, friends, patriotism and family
Socialized us into ‘we.’
Tastes, beliefs, attitudes and politics
Accelerate the definition of our affinity.

Yet, as ‘we‘ becomes formed for each of us,
Social distance from others arises along the way.
The ugly face of separateness
Fills the void with those now known as ‘they.’

‘They‘ has a sibling,
‘Them‘ is her first name.
The only thing these two care about
Is to create distance, misunderstanding, blame and shame.

One author has written about wisdom as
“not a shift from me to you, but a shift from me to us.”
I think he may have overlooked they and them.
The one’s who are an integral part of all this fuss.

Birthed as seed from The One,
Father, son, mother, daughter, sister and brothers.
We defile the sanctity of our heritage in accepting the notion
“We are all others.”

How do we move beyond all this?
Is His intention for His seed superfluous?
To tear down that which separates,
Perhaps this is our Exitus.

Notes:

1. Erwin Raphael McManus UPRISING, © 2003 by Erwin Raphael McManus, Nelson Books, a Division of Thomas Nelson, Inc. Nashville, TN p. 240

2. From the television series “LOST” – NBC

Across the border
We fled one black sky night.
Bundled in the arms of a parent,
Confused and paralyzed with fright.

Too young to understand,
Where this journey will ultimately lead.
Just following the hopes of mom and dad,
To a place where their dreams for something better might succeed.

Too young to stop and argue,
Too dependent to stay in Mexico alone.
What’s a child to do?
But trust, unable to discuss or bemoan.

Today, there are things they didn’t tell me.
Things I wish I would have known what they meant.
Things that now confront me,
In this country I call “home,” where I was brought without my consent.

I’m about to graduate from high school,
I obey the golden rule.
The United States is the only home I know,
To our flag I pledge heartfelt allegiance, Why then are it’s laws so cruel?

My friends in school have jobs,
Saving for college, they work so hard.
I want to work so badly,
But have no Social Security card.

My friends, we like to go places together
Teenage fun makes me feel alive.
We have to take the bus,
The Governor withholds the license I need to drive.

Some friends have asked me to join them on a family vacation
Trips to Hawaii, Washington D.C., and even Spain.
I have to tell them “I can’t make it,”
I’m without the government issued ID, necessary to board a plane.

My family needs better medical care,
During the rain this week, I wish I had a coat.
My mother and father deserve real employment,
Gosh, I wish that I could vote!

When I read my history books,
The migration from places called HopeLESS to HopeFULL fill it’s pages.
We just did what millions of others have done,
Can you explain what I’ve done wrong that cause politicians to fly into rages?

I have three younger sisters, all born in the U.S.A
I adore them oh so deeply however, it doesn’t make much sense.
How we live as one loving family and They’re citizens,
while my parents and I are undocumented immigrants.

My sisters, they see my tears
We pray this injustice will be healed.
We’re really not asking for much,
Just a level playing field.

Don’t tell me I should “go back,”
To Mexico to wander and to roam,
Don’t suggest I shut my mouth,
This is America! It’s my home!

I don’t want your sympathy,
My plight today never was my choice.
Although we would truly appreciate it,
If you would raise your voice.

There are millions of children just like me,
Whose hopes are unjustly contorted.
We can’t march or demonstrate,
For this we’ll be deported.

When I rise to pledge the American flag,
Mounted on our school wall.
I wish you could feel my heart leap,
When I speak “liberty and justice for all.”

My heart, it sings a song throughout each day,
It’s I Still Have a Dream by Dr. King.
The tears I let my sisters see,
Flow whenever I hear his voice cry, “Let Freedom Ring!”

You might find it silly,
To be inspired by America’s past.
It’s the basis for my hope, as I await the words today of Dr. King
“Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!”

Note:

This poem is written for the students in Santa Ana, CA that my wife and I have the privilege to live life with. It is written with their tears, desires, energy and compassion.