We found each other amidst all the aggression

because we love each other

Hi there. If you’ve been here for a while, I’m excited to announce the return of the weekly delight! If you are new here, the weekly delights are a compilation of random musings. This week’s delight includes thoughts on Martin Luther King Day, a poem I wrote in the bar, and art. Onto the delights…

Thoughts on MLK day

Trump’s inauguration falling on the same day as Martin Luther King Day underlies the paradox of this country. In one breath the United States claims to honor those who fight for liberation and freedom while extolling those who seek to oppress others. The so-called founding fathers who enslaved people are upheld as freedom fighters while MLK, a man who fought for equal rights for the ancestors of the enslaved, is also venerated.

I wonder if George Washington and the rest of those monsters ever asked themselves, “Is it weird that we are fighting for freedom while we deny other humans their freedom?” I bet you they didn’t. I don’t really think of colonizers as a self-reflecting bunch.

The founding fathers did know the cruelty of slavery, positing the state of the American colonists as akin to slavery. So these fools didn’t want to be slaves (which they weren’t) but they wanted to enslave people. White men claiming to be oppressed because they don’t have crowns is a tale as old as this country.

The founding fathers represent what America is and always has been, the gaslighter of freedom. So Trump spewing out hateful words to commemorate his first day in office occurring on the same day as Martin Luther King Day, honoring a man who was killed for wanting freedom for all, is as American as it gets. The president of the United States of America should be called gaslighter-in-chief.

The poem

I was sitting in a bar, waiting to go up at an open mic. I really don’t go to those much anymore and being there brought up a lot of discomfort for me. The main looping thought being why am I here?

I’m calling the poem, what is this journey. Onto the poem…