Sunday, April 13, 2014

The Bull Walking on Blood and Soil




A mass of gray in death causing turmoil
Like the spiral of a ram's horn
Conspiracies that surround the goat head
Are the reason no one reads good news
Unless there's speculations
Of pyramid symbolism

Theories become irrefutable evidence
Colorblind like a bull to every matador
Waving a red cape
Charging at a double edge sword
Like a nigga to a fire hose

You can't walk in my shoes
I have hooves
Among the million man march
Of pale soles

The ground we both walk on
Is the same but for some
It feels like broken glass and
Dirty needles bent from
Being passed around 
Like a house built on blut und boden  



©2014 Anthony Desmond Scott. All Rights Reserved.


*Blut und boden - German for blood and soil, is Nazi ideology;
synonymous with racism.*  

This poem is written for Poetics - The Photography of Phyllis Galembo,  my prompt 
at d'Verse Poets Pub.



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31 comments:

emmett wheatfall said...

You can’t walk in my shoes
I have hooves
Among the million man march
Of pale soles

Outstanding verse, Anthony! Hooves—a metaphor for shoes? Just brilliant! Why? You follow the metaphor up by referencing the Million Man March. The thought of 2 million hooves marching on Washington? It made me feel like Joe Frazier had just punched me in the mouth. Powerful verse, Anthony. Powerful poem.

Brian Miller said...

dang. hard to truly walk a mile in anyones shoes...to truly understand the feel of what it means to live for them....the italics section really drives this one home for me...nice use of the german bringing in other atrocities as well...

cool pics man...just dropped mine

Anthony Desmond said...

Thanks! I used hooves as a metaphor for anyone who doesn't know the struggle of being an individual. This poem has a lot to do with racism, but also for people who try to tell you what to do with your life. I said, "...the million man march
Of pale soles" as a generalization of people; among them, the bull (a unique thinker, outcast, etc.) the person who walks to the beat of his/her own drum, not many understand that. Which brings it back to the hooves; he or she is the difference.

Laurie Kolp said...

Wow... this blew me away, Anthony... especially like the ending.

Mary said...

Thinking about that last stanza. Same ground for everyone, but people 'feel' it in such different ways! Strong writing, Anthony.

Gabriella said...

Very powerful write, Anthony! The million march was a terrible event. So many deaths could have bee prevented.

annotating60 said...

Very interesting Anthony. Very pointed. >KB

jo-hanna said...

Intellectual approach with a painfully raw edge.

Glenn Buttkus said...

You certainly picked a powerful image, Anthony, & followed it up with both urban extant truth, & historical reinforcements, hammering the message to us, goring our butt a bit, as Racism rears its ugliness daily, like the old Klansman yesterday killing random Jews; the world is both frightening & fascinating for poets & citizens alike.

Anthony Desmond said...

The Million Man March was actually an act of unity between black men of America. Nothing terrible about that.

Claudia said...

You can't walk in my shoes
I have hooves ...love this...and so true...the ground we walk on is the same...but each experiences it in such a different way... great write...great prompt...i took the same pic..

Mark Kerstetter said...

Just like the photo your poem sends out shards of meaning and inquiry in different directions. I like that the figure is standing in front of a dump. It and your poem challenge the viewer/reader to question the ground we walk on and what we destroy when we go. But we're still here, and we walk on this same ground together. I love the guitar incorporated into the costume. It asks us to compose a new song out of the wreckage.

Grace said...

Very strong words Anthony ~ I specially like the ending and this stanza:

You can't walk in my shoes
I have hooves
Among the million man march
Of pale soles

I can relate to racism but ironically I find that each race has its own blinders too ~

You stretched me out of my comfort zone, so thanks for the challenging prompt ~ Have a good day ~

kkkkaty said...

My, you reveal all aspects of one wanting to carve out his individuality; I love the spiral of the ram's horn. One of my earliest drawings was of a black man climbing a big tree of thorns...that is how I related to this moving poem. The million man march was impressive, like a bull in the ring...

Steve E said...

We walk with the millions, but in the end, walk alone. Good piece, Anthony. Thanks, and now, listen to my thundering hoofbeats, as I gallop away to the next march....

Your idea resonated well, and Galembo's photos--outstanding!

Abhra said...

Hi Anthony, interesting treatment of the visual and the fine details you touch upon. I specially love the part of shoes.

michaelt said...

Excellent poem Anthony, I was particularly drawn to the visual elements.

Truedessa said...

I think we can only walk in our own shoes but, I would hope we
would walk with compassion.

Kamana said...

i have read and re-read this several times now. your words resonate well and i really like this part:

You can’t walk in my shoes
I have hooves
Among the million man march
Of pale soles

Beachanny said...

Anthony I think this is one of the best and most clearly powerful poems of yours I have read. This is deep, riveting, complex in its structure but clear in its meaning. With this I feel you have broken through to your own voice at last and no longer echo other influences. This is clearly you in all your depth and majesty. Proud of you!

Marina Sofia said...

That stanza starting 'you can't walk in my shoes' is very powerful, speaks volumes. Treating others all the same is not sufficient, we are all different, some with hooves, some with shoes, some barefoot. I like the way you have brought the picture's background into the foreground...

kaykuala said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
kaykuala said...

The ground we both walk on
Is the same but for some
It feels like broken glass and
Dirty needles bent from
Being passed around

Can see this as a reflection of the sufferings and disappointments of certain sections of society. Powerful shot Anthony!

Hank

quest4peas said...

When theories become irrefutable evidence, the truth is lost. Great piece.

alltagsp said...

Brilliant.

Victoria said...

Lots to this poem, Tony. The last stanza delivers a gut-punch. I like that you dug deeply into the symbolism of this art.

Gabriella said...

I guess I was thinking of the Death March at the end of WWII.

Susan said...

Yikes. Some of your comparisons blow me away. I especially like the irony of red cape/double-edged sword/fire hose-- as if one would rush willingly to death. The bull, irony: not a pale soul/sole, not naturally herded but the herder itself. WOW. I like the Nazi reference because I believe that when you speak of a ground full of needles, etc, you are not just talking of racism but also genocide. This poem is amazing.

Linda Rogers said...

You are a genius at metaphors and double meanings. I am in awe of this poem. Brilliant poetry with many important messages.

Jerry E Beuterbaugh said...

Surely this is a site well worth seeing.

mrs mediocrity said...

There is always such power in your poetry, irrefutable truths revealed in perfectly crafted layers of intense imagery. The hooves are a striking image here, adding a whole new layer.