Martin Luther King Jr. Day

In honor of one of the greatest men to ever live on this earth, I have a poem by Langston Hughes that I feel is a accurate representation of what Dr. King believed in. "I do not need freedom when I'm dead/I cannot live on tomorrow's bread." We must love each other now, not in the future or in the past - now. I find it fascinating and quite sad that a poem like this one can still ring true years after it was written. Enjoy and much love!!

Democracy

Democracy will not come
Today, this year
Nor ever
Through compromise and fear.

I have as much right
As the other fellow has
To stand
On my two feet
And own the land.

I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I'm dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow's bread.

Freedom
Is a strong seed
Planted
In a great need.

I live here, too.
I want freedom
Just as you.

Langston Hughes

Disaster relief in Haiti

As everyone probably already knows, an earthquake with a magnitude of 7.0 ripped through Haiti and parts of the Dominican Republic Tuesday, leaving Port au Prince and Jacmel (two major cities in Haiti) in desperate states of need, along with many other people throughout the country. Early estimates guess more than 3 million people will be directly affected by this horrific tragedy and hundreds of thousands could lose their lives.

I doubt anybody will find this post, but I have to put this out there just in case anyone happens to stumble across it.

PLEASE donate money to a reliable relief effort in this disastrous time. Some of the better ones I have come across include:

- Doctors Without Borders

- UNICEF

- CARE

- Red Cross

- Yele Haiti Foundation

- Save the Children

- World Vision

Please, donate $5, $10, $20 - Whatever you have will help. We can do this. We can make a difference in these peoples' lives.

Gwendolyn Brooks

Gwendolyn Brooks was an absolutely phenomenal poet with an equally phenomenal background. Unfortunately, she died in 2000, but in her 80+ years on this earth, she left us (in my humble opinion) some of the most important poetry and art in the 20th century. Brooks grew up in Chicago in the 1930s and 1940s - not exactly the easiest time for black women in America. In her work, Brooks broke barriers that many thought would never be broken. She won the Pulitzer Prize in 1949 for he book entitled Annie Allen. In 1968, she was named the Poet Laureate of Illinois. At a turbulent time in rapidly changing American social and political culture, Brooks was able to break down the illusion that minorities were not capable of high intellectual thought and groundbreaking creativity.

Aside from all of these accolades from critics and readers, Brooks is simply put an amazing poet, and one who every single person on this earth should have the pleasure of experiencing. Here is an short sample of her work form The Bean Eaters (1960). Also, you can check out Gwendolyn's page on poets.org. Enjoy! :)

The Bean Eaters
They eat beans mostly, this old yellow pair. Dinner is a casual affair. Plain chipware on a plain and creaking wood, Tin flatware. Two who are Mostly Good. Two who have lived their day, But keep on putting on their clothes And putting things away. And remembering . . . Remembering, with twinklings and twinges, As they lean over the beans in their rented back room that is full of beads and receipts and dolls and cloths, tobacco crumbs, vases and fringes.

I'm back!

And in Turku, Finland! I took a break from blogging and other related activities to enjoy the holidays with my family and friends (who I already miss dearly!). I have not actually had a chance to get out into the city, as today has been a day of rest after a series of flights and long waits in airports. Tonight I will go to the city, and hopefully have some pictures available soon on my Facebook account. In the spirit of arriving in Finland, I thought I would provide a poem from a modern Finnish poet named Risto Rasa. Most of the Finnish poems I have looked at are simple and a lot shorter than poetry in the states. A lot of the modern poem I have looked are observatory and less than 5 lines. These translations were found alongside the Finnish originals at http://www.luminarium.org/. Much love!

My Best Friend

My best friend
At one time was a girl.
We tried to meet so nobody would see
And we walked someplace
Peaceful to play.
We made ranches:
From pebbles, fences and stalls,
From sticks and pinecones, cows
And lots of horses;
We were going to be horse ranchers in the West.
We returned home by different routes,
I casually rejoining the other boys
To play boys' games.
When she got glasses,
I was right there, jeering along with the others.

- Risto Rasa -