Showing posts with label Black Lives Matter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black Lives Matter. Show all posts

Sunday, June 22, 2025

Part III (a poem)

What will I feel 
If the unthinkable 
Becomes reality 
Crimson death balloons 
Detonating before our eyes 
Will there be pain 
As my atoms go nuclear 
Turning inside out 
Incinerate into nothing 
Will my final thought 
Be one of release 
I didn’t vote for him 
Not the first tine 
Nor the second 
Definitely not the third 
The blood of others 
On other hands 
I did what I could 
To prevent the 
Narcissistic 
Delusional  
Bigoted 
Self-righteous 
Hypocrite 
From gaining power again.
Maybe my last thought 
My last feeling 
As my disintegrating body 
Becomes a shadow  
Silently screaming 
On the wall 
Should be of 
Blind rage 
Rage against those 
Who wanted this 
Wanted him in office 
Knowing he was unstable 
Shoving his first chosen 
Right-hand man 
Under a bus 
For not illegally 
Calling him winner 
Now no one wins 
Maybe not even 
The only kind 
Of people
Other than himself 
He cares about 
Rich  
White 
Straight 
Christian  
Men  
But with your vote 
You wanted that too 
To cleanse the country 
Of anyone 
Identifying as a 
Race  
Sexuality 
Religion 
Gender 
Different than you 
You knew how he 
Hated
Other 
Humans  
Who didn’t fit into 
His homogenized mold 
When you voted 
This time around 
So don’t play dumb 
In our final hour 
Will you rejoice  
With your last 
Holier than thou 
Atomic breath 
Give thanks to 
Your elected 
Lord and Savior 
For making 
The upcoming  
Post-apocalyptic  
Wasteland 
Great again 
____________
2025, John L. Harmon 

This poem is an expression of my fear and anger over current events.  

Freak Out, 
JLH 


Tuesday, February 6, 2024

The Failure (a short story, of sorts)

   The ignorance was loud and astounding.  

    He sat there in stunned silence as his office coworkers spewed forth ignorance and maybe even hate.  It was difficult to say when hate and ignorance sound so similar.  Either way, he couldn’t believe his ears.

    One coworker theorized that the entertainment industry was trying to get rid of white people.  She complained how there weren’t as many white faces on television and in film these days.  He knew this was a ridiculously bigoted theory and a gross exaggeration, but he bit his tongue.  

    The second coworker agreed with the first coworker’s theory and added one of her own.  With a tone best described as disdain, she complained that when there is a white person on television or in film, they were gay.  He knew this was also a ridiculously bigoted theory and as senseless as the other, but he continued biting his tongue. 

    Deep down, his voice was screaming to put an end to this blatantly racist and homophobic exchange, but what could he say? 

    “I am the whitest white guy you’re ever going to meet and I’m as queer as a two-headed penny, but I’m thrilled to see a variety of people telling their stories, daring to show the world how we are all very much alike!” 

    He could’ve gave voice to the screaming thoughts in his head, but he didn’t.  The community where he lived was predominantly made up of white, conservative, straight Christians.  If one did not fall under all of these categories, then one had to tread with caution.  He knew his place in this so-called community and out of fear of being fired or being labeled the problem worker, he swallowed his anger and sadness over how such intense prejudices continued in the world.

    In the end, he felt like a failure for not speaking up, for not daring to shine a spotlight on the intolerance before him. 
____________
2024, John L. Harmon 

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words. 

Freak Out, 
JLH 

P.S.  my queer little books are available from an Amazon near you… 📚 
3 books by john L. Harmon.  Dark excursions the complete set.  Vision bent half blind poems.  Sturgeons the complete serials

Sunday, July 5, 2020

Walking after sundown

How often, during my Omaha days & nights in the late '90's/early 2000's, did I get a late-evening hankering for some Lay's Sour Cream potato chips and Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream?  Too many times to count, and no I wasn't pregnant.  I'd slip on my boots and walk many, many blocks to the heart of my downtown existence...The Old Market.  There was a little market/gas station that I frequented because it was closer than any larger grocery store.  I would purchase my unnatural, but tasty, junk food combo cravings and traverse the night back to my apartment.  And don't get me started on the countless times I put on my boogie shoes, walked to the clubs, and danced the night away. Stumbling through the streets at 1 or 2 in the morning to crash into my single occupancy bed was a sometimes chaotic, but good time in my younger life. 

Flash forward to the last few years and I'm still walking the streets at night.  No, I haven't started my post-pandemic career...yet.  When my sister and I were delivering two different newspapers, she would drive to a nearby town to retrieve one, while I sometimes delivered the other.  I can't drive, so I would lug two grocery bags of rolled-up newspapers through the dark, early morning streets of my small town.  In the winter, with my heavy coat, stocking cap, and a scarf wrapped around most of my face, I looked  like a tick about ready to pop.  Sometimes I would walk on the sidewalks, sometimes in the streets, but I kept my damaged eyes as peeled as possible for unexpected obstacles such as tree branches or rocks.  When one of the newspapers switched to mail delivery, my walking after sundown decreased, which has given my half-blind eyes more important things to focus on.

In August 2019, a young man named Elijah McClain was walking home from the store one late-evening in Colorado, a state adjoining mine.  Someone called the police to report a person behaving suspiciously.  The police arrived, immediately confronted the young man as if walking down the sidewalk with a grocery bag was a felony, and then used excessive force to restrain him.  A few days later Elijah McClain died as a result of this assault.

How often did I walk down sidewalks in the dark while carrying a grocery bag?  Why did I never get reported as a suspicious individual when I behaved far more suspiciously than Elijah McClain?  Why didn't the police stop me to see what I was doing walking in the dark?  Why am I not dead after a confrontation with police?

Comparing my experiences with his, the answer to these questions is obvious to me.  It's because I am white and Elijah McClain was black. 

Elijah McClain should still be alive but the system meant to protect and serve killed him because of the color of his skin.  Until the system is repaired, the healing of this country cannot begin.  This is one of many reasons why Black Lives Matter. 

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words. 

Freak Out, 
John L. Harmon 

Monday, June 8, 2020

The world I want to live in...


This is a screenshot of a photo I took in 2016.

It represents the world I want to live in.

A world where we celebrate our diversity.  

A world where we embrace our similarities. 

A world where humanity finally realizes that we are all in this very short life together. 

May the peaceful protests in the name of George Floyd be the first step into a brave new world of unity. 

#BlackLivesMatter 
#Pride 
#PowerToThePeople 
#AllTogether 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know this world will not instantly appear overnight, but, despite my cynical-pessimistic nature, I believe humanity can be remarkable if we choose to be so.

Thank you for reading or listening to my half-blind words.

Freak Out, 
John L. Harmon