Pragmatic Optimism

A bible and ashtray filled with cigarettes are seen at SHARE/WHEEL Tent City 4 outside Seattle, Washington October 9, 2015. SHARE and WHEEL describe themselves as self-organised, democratic organisations of homeless and formally homeless people which run several self-managed tent cities. At homeless encampments from Seattle, Washington state to Las Cruces, New Mexico, residents live away from the dangers of life on the streets, saying the stability helps them work towards their goals. Despite a shortage of affordable housing for the poor and budget constraints on social welfare programmes, many U.S. cities have clamped down on tent cities in the past few years.  REUTERS/Shannon Stapleton PICTURE 15 OF 35 - SEARCH "STAPLETON TENTS" FOR ALL IMAGES - RTX1Z3IV

A bible and ashtray filled with cigarettes are seen at SHARE/WHEEL Tent City 4 outside Seattle, Washington October 9, 2015. SHARE and WHEEL describe themselves as self-organised, democratic organisations of homeless and formally homeless people which run several self-managed tent cities. At homeless encampments from Seattle, Washington state to Las Cruces, New Mexico, residents live away from the dangers of life on the streets, saying the stability helps them work towards their goals. Despite a shortage of affordable housing for the poor and budget constraints on social welfare programmes, many U.S. cities have clamped down on tent cities in the past few years. REUTERS/Shannon Stapleton PICTURE 15 OF 35 – SEARCH “STAPLETON TENTS” FOR ALL IMAGES – RTX1Z3IV

The figs did not ripen this

year nor did the dreams

of democracy in the land

of the free the hard green

fruit only skin and seeds

absent the flesh necessary to

sustain the living who

are left with only the dull green

skin the dream of figs

hopes for another winter’s rain with

a spring that blooms hopefully followed

by a full summer’s harvest but

this is not the case in the now of

seasons that collapse

in on one another like confused

drunks & unripened fruit this

is the season of no harvest wind

sacrifice & dues paid to master’s

who are owed nothing

law givers who stole the company

store and plutocrats who have neither

cake nor pity for the rabble

there will be no figs this

year only the frustrated

promise of figs no rest for

the weary in search of a dream

deferred erased and rewoven

in the promise written on ill

winds blowing away rationality

to make room for reasons

to continue dancing towards the

precipice there will be no figs

no jobs no solutions no calvary

just more of the same & hope fed

on figs that won’t ripen

About Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

I create; therefore I am.
Image | This entry was posted in Life., North American African Perspective, Poetry, spokenword and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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