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Tag Archives: Racism

My Pledge of Allegiance

24 Friday Jan 2020

Posted by Bill Watkins in America, Poetic Blog, Politics, USA

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Joy, Love, Nationalism, One Love, Peace, Racism, Togetherness, Truth, USA

Peace American Flag

I pledge allegiance to World Peace,
And to being peaceful, Loving
and True to God as I understand God,
while tolerating others and their
beliefs, gods and names for them.

I reject nationalism, racism and borders,
accept boundaries as sound and safe,
but not as weapons to degrade, dehumanize
and exclude my fellow human beings
seeking a good and free day, as we all are.

I declare gratitude to God, my higher power,
the Native Great Spirit, the bible, the
Tao Te Ching, all human effort to be godly
and better than we are… We are powerless
over events, results, the future!  Admitting…

Is the start of a happy life, Truth the key;
without it we have nothing, no peace of mind,
nothing to give, sort of like trying to go out
one day without sleep the night before,
thinking you could possibly enjoy…

San Miguel del Mundo!  Not on maps only,
but in my heart, one that prays for a less racist,
honest and peaceful America that admits
the truth that people are not in charge,
Democracies are a myth, and Love is all.

***

(Excerpt from my new poetry book, San Miguel del Mundo: https://www.amazon.com/dp/165567577X)

All Blood is Red

09 Thursday Aug 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Poem, Poems, Poesia, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Political

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Joy, Love, Peace, Political, Racism, Trump

We hurt, we sing, we fight,
we pray, a human race here,
another there they said…

But all blood is red.

You have poked a snake, called
the same different, played the
game of hide and tweak—

with the Devil you sought peace
instead of the forgiveness
taught in Bible’s peak,

You have to love and listen
before your speak, the song
sung on podium’s dead…

All human blood is red.

Donald Trump, the hooting
and hollering of hatred from fear
of losing or anger of never having,

we blame a neighbor, our wives
instead of the calm look at our
own tweaked lives, this and

more, settling on your door,
like the stench of rain on your
dog’s coat, the sound of silence

broken by the caged parrot
breaking free in the empty blue
of pet store revelry, the God of

love is the only found so seek,
A long rest awaiting peace of
mind near heaven, blessed are

the meek.  The poor.  The
downtrodden will rise, the songs
words supplied, I’m talking of

the post-barfly path of the
abstinent walker of trails, could
be you, could be mine, the drift

of our lives toward peace and
childhood all the time.  The angry
and vengeful fall into their own

sulky trap of not seeing and
being the little boys and girls
grown up they can be, a deep

breath awaiting change, but until
then, take up your bed, walk with me,
and sing the song of what could be.

I’m hopeful not expecting the racist
to be well, to look up when called
away from their privately made hell.

Look around, see you in me, in them,
May God bless you to use your head.

See at last the truth before too late:
you are not that great…

We are all the same deep down,

All our blood is red.

Xenophobe

09 Saturday Jun 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Immigration, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Political Satire, Race, Racism, Satire, Xenophobia

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

America, Border, Fear, Foreigners, Immigration, Joke, Joy, Love, Peace, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Political, Racism, Satire, Sessions, The Wall, Trump, USA, Xenophobia

Let’s stick together, fend off
the other.

We used to be an “other” long ago,
but not me that was my
progenitor, not me—let’s go!

I’d rather be dead than caught
in the web; liberal diversity’s not
for me, I’m a Christian, just
the type who’s white, ticked
and armed, so back off.

Someone once challenged my
right to kill.  They were invading
my house, so I had to defend, but
in the army learned that shooting
for the torso of a human was
defending so killed him.

One must defend one’s family—
which is everything.  Blood relations,
keeping America white.

They say this was native American
before it was white European but I
kinda’ think that’s Fake News.

I ignore God when I want to
and cheer at Liberals’ defeat,
this is a war and I wanna win so
let’s kill as much as we need to
let’s win.

Stop ‘em at the border, kill
‘em if we must, build a wall,
Jews will not replace us.  Divide
and conquer’s not the devil’s
line—Believe Me!!

Let’s go to the rally!  Are you going?

So much winning; I love it
how we won all those wars.

Vietnam was fake news, we won
that too!

Kennedy had it coming, I love
CIA movies and their covert ops,
I wish I could take one now,
see all those babies separated from
their mothers at the border,
I’m Christian but the kind that
likes White Jesus, and sick
of the politically correct brown
one they cook up downtown
in what will become a sanctuary
city if we don’t spread Trump
fever fast and build that damn
wall!

Messing with Mom

30 Wednesday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blog, Blogs, God, Honor, Misogyny, Mom, Morality, Mother, Poem, Poems, Poetic Blog, Poetry, Sex, Sexism

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Immigration, Ivanka, Joy, Love, Mom, Morality, Mother, Mothers, Peace, Political, Race, Racism, Trump, Truth

Men with stiff upper lips gather
in dark rooms, light cigars, drink
Scotch whiskey and avoid their feelings.

White people.

White men, holding hard to their
dreams of control and privilege—

the false narrative that “America” is
white, European, and manifest in
supreme destiny to be clean of the
riff-raff of anything not them.

Native peoples here were one with the
land, slaves brought in to tend it,
too.

And the men gather, not white-skinned
always, more like pink, red, sometimes
tanned against the sun, necks burned
to coin a derogatory phrase—
and shouldn’t we with conscience choose
not to use those?

Heaven knows the white, dark, brown,
whatever colored person is as good or
bad as the next;

We’re all prone to mistake.  To moments
of joy, perfect and true.

The smile universal, the love Ivanka
knows about even if Dad spits “Fuck you.”

The truth of the dream more than the
border of “seems,” something there is
that doesn’t love a wall and wants it
down.

I thought at first sound of a wall to
the south, “Okay, interesting, we all have
an option to wall our homes off from
the world, why not a country?”

Then I figured out that the term “wall,”
and “Build the Wall” next to “Lock Her Up”
at campaign rallies was a clear dog
whistle to the racist fear-mongering
masses, a racist explosion of “keep
them out,” they’re “criminals!”

They’re “animals!!!”

And Donald, sir:

So are you.  That you do not know
that is why you admire Andrew Jackson
and his Trail of Tears.

You have left the human race, you who
hold onto your racism and xenophobic
fear of others.

You are not animals at play in God’s
field with other animals—you who cast
out “different” as “worse.”

I love you.

We must love the oppressed and the
oppressor, for who at day’s end is more
close to death than life as the character
assassinator, the genocider, the angry,
stiff-lipped cigar sucker,

back rooms lit with the devil’s glare,
hoping against hope to turn your four-
year old heart into four years of
wrecking ball politics, hate, fear
and dismantling more than even CIA
managed in Cold War?

Carnage?

Oh, to be a fly on the wall when Daddy
brought that home.

Mine did every once in a while,
but I forgive him, love him, and
honor the God racist misogynist GOP
sellouts claim to worship by staying
small under Him or Her.

By listening.

By accepting that Mom brought us here
and deserves our respect!

Not a border full of Cops taking
their children away as a deterrent
to make up for your lack of gratifying
sex.

Go back to the wives of your youth,
Trump and criminal sympathizing supporters,
honor your father and mother, but first:

Repent.

Admit we stole this land.

Not for you, dummy, as I smile to tuck
in your shirt, little guy.

We admit truth to make the world
better

Racism

27 Sunday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Racism

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Joy, Love, Peace, Racism, Trump

Judgment of others from fear,
we are concerned with not having
enough, being enough, so point
over there to them.

It’s the calm before the storm,
to coast along racist and okay with it.

We cannot be where we are not,
are wise to accept some things
until that day when we ourselves get
hurt.

Now it’s time to change, a sensitivity
develops we did not know existed.

We used to call out difference or
perceived difference as a way to not
only point out difference but a
Trumped up superiority.

Truth is, and will always be, no
matter what we as people with our
words do or see!

“God” might just be…

Good
Orderly
Direction,

a morning defection from a country
or land of persecution or abuse.

The progressive welcomes the traveler,
while the nationalist, the racist:

Afraid of change and difference or
perceived difference…

Keeps the difference or perceived
difference “out.” A “purity” is striven
for, a racial cleansing no matter the
history of a land, the one race will
lay claim to it all.

Look at my skin and its color!

It is better than others because I
said so, “And I’m very smart,

Believe me!”

Racism is just another way to hell,
the wide path to it staying wide
the narrow to enlightenment, care
and heaven just there, as well!

Nothing ever changes.

Then… behold.

A great change on the horizon!!

A human race under higher
powers!

Something only has power when
given that power, so racism without
reaction is just a lie, a piece of bait
on the line.

Don’t bite.

Pray for the souls that suffer so
much they lash at others, find
a safe place to prosper, and never
give up being the perfect you
against the storm that is the
Devil’s confusion, judgment, a lie
that fellow products of man and
woman’s love are somehow better
or worse by looks or some loud,
insecure bully’s voice.

Blacks for Trump

19 Saturday May 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Poem, Poems, Poetry, Politics

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Love, Peace, Racism, Trump

Laughing out loud, one
begins to look around, consider
who “they” are.

The “Trump supporter” is a human
being, I respect that.

Donald Trump is a person, not
just an animal—I respect that.

Racist people are people, have
developed over time a prejudice
based on what Dad told them, Mom,
their community of friends or whatever
it was to seek good feelings.

Racism is the core of Trumpism, and
that is more evident with every Trump
supporter or TV channel talk I take
in to try to learn…

***

I was just on a tree-trimming job,
knew the guy I worked for was a Fox
News/Trump loyalist, liked to talk
politics and Hannity conspiracy theory.

That’s okay, as long as we can find
some humor and branches to cut,
a level of mutual respect that allows
people to agree to disagree.

My dad voted for Trump before he passed
away last year, and did so more out
of Hillary hate than Donald love.

Both my dad and this guy with the tree
have something in common, as they
have in common with all other Trump
supporters and apologizers:

Racism.

Racial prejudice.

It may be deep down, or right there
on the surface, but Donald trump
came into politics race baiting and
birth-denying, Obama-hating, and
dividing—

and his so-called “presidency” fails to
back off from hate, never taking a knee,
never apologizing.

The man with the tree pointed at me
when arguing, yelled and spit, touched
me on occasion as a way to intimidate
and bully sway.

When I did not budge, I thought it was
time to cut branches…

Then he dropped
the N word twice, flying his true
colors at last.

“Obama was a worthless, no good
N…” started a ramble I turned off, warned
him to stop so I could cut branches, adding
that I was raised by a black nanny, was in
fact “black.”

He started inside his house, knowing the
job was in jeopardy, then added something
to stir the pot about Obama and black people,
and…

I walked out of the job, walked off the property
with my gear, the man yelling,

“Are you sure?”

Me yelling back,

“Dead sure.”

I pray for that man, for my dad’s spirit as
he would have turned 93 this Monday.

Prejudice is a weed that takes work
to remove.

I needed to do the 12 steps of AA before
I could let go of my racism, bigotry
and prejudice—along with my deep-seeded
misogyny and chauvinism.

I had every ism from loose behaviors,
sipping a false god called “alcohol.”

***

“Blacks for Trump” is a disgusting
backdrop to disgusting campaign rally
speeches in the middle of a stolen
presidency.

“Niggers Don’t Kneel” would be more
honest, Trump.

Tucker.

Sean.

Laura.

And Giuliani?

Haha, he looks like a man caught
on tape with a Ukrainian prostitute
peeing on him.

Chirp, chirp—just how I want or I will
release the tape!!!

Yes, Vlad, no problem.

I concur, Vlad, saying the orange man
most-likely poor and in debt than rich.

Anything you say, Vlad, I just
want our countries to be friends.

I just want to make America White
Again—scratch that, GREAT!!!

Truthful hyperbole, we call it, and yes,
Cambridge, yes Bannon, it’s a good
way to keep the blacks from voting!!!

Clean Coal!!!

No Mexicans!!!

Blacks for TRUMP!!!!!

Racist “President”

12 Friday Jan 2018

Posted by Bill Watkins in Poem, Poems, Poetry, Political

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Joy, Love, Peace, Racism, Trump

The devil is strong, don’t get me wrong—
and we humans are wise not to ever
judge other humans.

But stating truth is a good first step,
and though we’ve had corrupt and sinful
humans in “office” before—

(CIA killing people covertly, locking
up documents in government omerta,
pretending “democracy…”

The devil runs a lot of what we do—
wide the path to destruction, and many
people on it!)

***

But there is no excuse for the rise of
a KKK, Hitler-style mein Trumph red-faced
hater of a racist

in the highest executive office of this
often corrupt government.  Often off,
yes, but usually striving

until the hatred for the nation’s first
black president rose among the white
type, say “elites,”

and the misogynistic, ignorant ultra-white
wing tearing town a woman out of hand
as not “military” tough…

“We hate Hillary” turned by Russian bots
and linking hands with neo-Nazis into
the Donald Trump platform.

His dad, Fred Trump, was arrested for
fighting with the KKK against those damned
Catholic New York cops.

***

It is tempting to be hateful and judgmental
at hate and judgment, but I will refrain, pray
for Trump and

all confused, racist people.  People who
often were raised wrong, with lies
all around them.

The lies come from hard times, are a defense
mechanism against a real or perceived
block to one’s way of life.

Donald’s dad faced what he faced, being
German when he was—was he hiding
his Nazi card, making

a habit of lying, saying they were “Swedish”
to keep the money coming in as Immigrants
to America?

Did Donald see those lies, absorb them, become
a liar, develop defenses about who he was and
where he was from?

Was there a deep down and low inferiority
complex that created Hitler?  Did that same
inferiority create Trump?

Give Hitler credit for honesty, he was out of the
closet, an obvious violent racist—while Trump
harbors hate in

secret waters, stirred up by certain reporters
and probes at certain times.  “Take a knee”
slave and be whipped;

“Jews will not replace us” from “good people,”
the Confederate monuments are our culture
and history,

Never mind Heather Heyer, or that hate
produced a murder: “We must preserve
our racist culture,”

Trump seems to say, from a stolen seat—
one sold out by Republicans to any candidate
that could Hillary beat.

Forget morals, forget effort, forget progress,
and world peace.  (That could be a Twitter
bio blurb for CIA,

but I was at first thinking about Republicans
like my aging father now passed, who was duped
into a Trump vote.

A racist vote.  The vote for hate.  The vote stirred
up by people’s hatred for non-white advance,
feeling “replaced”

by superior education in non-white speakers,
pundits and politicians.  “Women should know
their place,” speaks Ignorance

and Trump’s every other word a lie to
keep his dad’s secrets safe.  It’s okay to admit
you’re a Nazi, Donald—

and I’ll tell you why:

Nazis sprung from the first World War, a horrible
Hell of a place.  Violence, death, insanity and
a crippling treaty

lacking benevolence or thought toward
Germany’s innocent children, growing up
in the 1920’s while

we got drunk and flapper-danced our
way to record stock market highs.  The
rise of Hitler

and German hatred stirred up war and
Fred Trump.  It is understandable, as Fred
was a landlord

in New York, accused of discrimination
by Woody Guthrie: “Beach Haven is Trump’s Tower
Where no black folks come to roam.”

Fred’s son in Fred’s image, racist and
red-faced in private, “not a racist bone in
my body,”

he says until you discern and discover
Trump’s code-language, and here is the key:
Most major statements

he makes: the opposite is true.)

***

So, we have a racist person—who most-
likely stole the office—sitting in the White
House, supposedly

representing this region of the world to
other parts of the world.

***

Sad.  Embarrassing.  The first time any
“president” of the United States made
me cry.

Call me a snowflake, CIA—you have made
me cry many times, killing Kennedy,
Martin, Kennedy, and Lennon—

Taking out Romero in El Salvador to top
it off—any minister or peace-lover
against your war agenda.

***

Now a racist “president” character
assassinating every person world-wide who
is not “white” or European-rooted.

I pray for Trump, who was born into
racism; has never known the glory of
spirit that emanates

without prejudice from the spirited;

be they black, white, red or brown,
the healing blue I send to you, for
racism and

bigotry was in me once too!  I was
ignorant, pre-spiritual awakening, drinking
flammable liquid

(so praying to false gods), and I brought
down all “others” from women to
different races.

It was the wrong way, but I could not
buck it until I could trust someone
enough to tell truth.

Donald, may you find love and truth;
may God come to you, reveal Him
or Herself—

same goes for the CIA, its evil “covert”
insanity, and to the sellout GOP, who
stirred up hate

by standing with Trump against the
first Woman who should have been
president.

To follow the first black man in the office.

Those words: “women” and “black,” “African
American” and “wives”—these are to be put down
to the racist,

not voted into office.  To the bigot.  To the
chauvinistic misogynistic, confused bedeviled
folks…

I love you.

The Last Gasp of the Racist, Sexist Right Wing

15 Monday May 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, Political

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Death Rattle, Joy, Love, Peace, Racism, Right Wing, Sexism

-by Bill Watkins 5/15/2017

RacistSexistRight1

Evolution is alive, but sometimes you cannot tell.

The old, racist, white right wing holds on, because it is “manly” and “strong” to do so.

Women and minorities are “weak;” they must remain in their place.

A black president with a crazy Muslim name must be hated—is certainly the enemy.

Hillary Clinton?  “I do declare, with my southern drawl, Madame: that Hillary Clinton suffers from improper genitalia to properly execute the office of president, or any other.”

So the Republicans sold out their morality to support the immoral, sexist, racist, uneducated self-proclaimed “smart person,” Donald Trump.

Shady Trump.  Hidden Taxes Trump.  Friend of Putin Trump.

Old and white.  Tillerson.  Old and white.  Grassley and McConnell.  Old and white.

Holding on…

***

The answer is not a stronger left wing.

As a former racist, sexist, alcoholic, white right winger, I can fairly report that two things helped me to evolve into a liberal, open-minded person:

1. Sobriety
2. Love

***

Love you congressmen and senators, people.  Love them.  Tell them you love them.  Forgive them.  The only thing worse than being abused by racism and sexism might very well be:

To be racist and sexist.

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