Monday, July 22, 2013

Trayvon Martin


By Badri Raina
badri.raina@gmail.com

You forgot your Biblical lessons,
Dear boy; God being Light, all
Good things are white;
And Satan being the prince
Of darkness, being born black
Is a hopeless mess.
Against such black vicissitudes
Was a just law found that said
To the white killer, “stand your ground.”
Only some sixty million of your forefathers
Were  murdered in the slave trade;
Too many more are still left
To be made dead. Sinners are those
That think racism is bad.
Only when non-white trash gathers
Into a common cause is racism racism;
Zimmerman is merely God’s own prism.
From the Fuhrer he remembered how
The Swastika was not racist emblem,
But Zarathustra’s  declaration
That only a chosen some
Had right over life, death, and the fun
Born of  extermination; thus
Zimmerman was only furthering
The  pure Aryan nation.
Watch Obama hold his thinking head,
Wondering how to balance
The claims of white power with
The  piquant tragedy of the dead.
Statecraft is a matter of great
Consideration of how to do
The bidding of the endowed
Without seeming to do so.
Dear Martin that art now in the
Netherworld, from the Netherworld
Itself must issue forth a new light
That bids adieu to the jaundiced ray
That makes difference between
Zimmerman and you, and bears
Promise to make mankind
All of one hue.

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

The Gods above us

By Badri Raina
badri.raina@gmail.com


They had great faith in the gods
Dotting the hills and dales—
Those men and women who
Are now corpses.

Yet, not one among those that
Survived was heard to say
“The gods govern our conditions;
Not the government, not the builders,
Not the hoteliers, not the miners—
None of these are responsible, since
God willed it so.”

All of their moaning suggested
How unstuck they were with the gods
They believed in.
Of all the tangled flesh and bone
That lay mangled among the rubble,
One corpse stood out:

Bang in the sanctum sanctorum,
This young man, dead and askew,
Had open eyes full of consternation
Fixed searingly upon the god-in-chief.
It was as though in his moment
Of dying, his amazement at the deity’s
Uncaring repose was too much to hide.
He might have been thinking, “How
Could you let this happen?”

The bold accusation in his eyes,
Resentfully alive in his death,
Waits for answer.