Saturday, March 1, 2014

“Across The Way”

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Someone in a school class room asked, “Why do we have to have African Studies or a Black History Month? Why can’t we have an Asian, Italian, French, Jewish, Irish, Russian, Armenian, German, or Chinese history month?”

The answer that was given is… “Africans were enslaved and brought here to America in Chains! They’ve had their culture, Language, and lives ripped from them when they were snatched from their homes – they are the only group of people who were forced to come here…they did not come voluntarily to America. It was built on Free Slave Labor!”
 
“Across The Way”
By
Gregory V. Boulware
 

The preparations were under way…

The repast was hot, delicious, and plentiful. They had all eaten to their hearts content. Their gullets were stuffed full of revelry, joy, and family. Many could not participate in such fine raiment, delicacy, or domicile – for they had none.

Many jumped up and ran for the door. Some took naps and rested from their great ordeal with the plate, spoon, and fork. They, some, prepared for the morrow’s day of work and service, while many gathered their currency, plastics, and smart phones in readiness of the day called black. Some gave thanks while others did not. Because the lived across the way.

The day celebrating the great birth was festive. Many were concerned with those who had not while many simply walked over and away – stepped over obliviously, ignored and cast away. Albeit, much of it due to invisibility and wanton chosen-selective ignorance. Unemployment rested upon pins and needles too. The session of debate, decision, and a rush for the door was their only hope. Hopes were shattered, spat on, and trashed with the traversing footfalls of the end of session escape into oblivion. Their far away domiciles were kept hidden from the masses and the media – the eye of truth, justice, and liberty for all, especially for those on this side, across the way.

Lights of brilliance and babbles squinted and stretched wide the eyes of the pious and the marveled. They ran across the way to see what sparkled next, what was less or more expensive, the best, the biggest, and brightest or the most. After the acquiring of trinkets and loot were brought back to residences of glitter and preference, brought in through doorways, windows, and chimneys, all of which is not required or afforded across the way. In a word, they ran away and denounced such things as ludicrous – the words scribed in a pretty Good Book:

“This,” saith the Lord, “learn not the way of the heathen; for the heathen are dismayed at them, for the customs of the people are vain; for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of hands of the workman, with the axe. They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not. But, they are altogether brutish and foolish: the stock is a doctrine of vanities.”

~Jeremiah, Chp. 10~ 

Can you not see, o’ ye across the way?

The ball dropped and fell down the pole. They ran across the way to see… The newly entered year was seized with revel and joyous behavior. Will it be short lived? I think yes… The old and the weak stayed away from the celebration for fear of being trampled by the maddened crowd, in their attempt to get the best spot – across the way.

The people, who knew not what they do, boasted the image of Him with looks of falsehood. His head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were as a flame of fire. Trojan lands were under siege.

“I know thy works, and tribulations, and poverty, but thou art rich and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are the Jews, and are not, but are the Synagogue of Satan – although Enoch walked with God across the way.

Cain dwelt in the land of Nod, east of Eden; the earthen giants were children of angels and the human female. The daughters of man were indeed fair.

Multitudes of the unemployed held hope by the throat in strained attempts to believe the elected would, sooner or later, do the right thing – for those across the way. They were running to get across the way – in pursuit, in a foolish attempt of evading the Most High, to escape from the avenging archangel in the night, or Satan himself – to catch the naked Black Man before he could reach the safety of freedom across the way.

The ones on the other side of the aisle stretched with strained limbs, reached out with portentous contention, endeavoring to show them the light of the righteous.

“Do not leave the session now – do not leave when we are needed the most – your homes are intact and well endowed. Is it not our duty, our responsibility to see to it that all are just as secure? Is it not our charge to provide so that they can make it over there, across the way? We beseech thee, to the last just and sober soul, come back inside and live up to the honor that has been bestowed upon thee; for the people, by the people, and for the people. Even if one creed does not support the other, the colloquial destiny is one."

Cherries and fantasy enfold the living belief of life inside the liquid crystal display. Several survivors of the dinner hour sit seated eagerly awaiting their turn to contribute his or her day’s experience. Parental loving pride casts a mighty beacon throughout the land of freedom town. The totality of the union, (for the moment), superlatively overwhelms the surrounding host of despair. The lack of oneness is the ultimate sacrifice mankind has submitted – given in to Satan. His power resides in the destruction of mankind. Many are duped into the following and faith of individuality, contempt, separation, and isolation of the masses. For as long as we are not capable of understanding and communication, how can there be total cohesion, peace, and equality amongst us? In believing that one is mightier than the other, better than your God – the curse bestowed upon those who built the ‘Tower of Babel,’ falls and spreads throughout the lands of the world, across the way; allowing Satan’s victorious smile.

Gladiators of the grid iron, hoop, and diamonds of dirt, ring of passion and rope, or Olympian trials are bestowed with greatness from admiring eyes. Richness and wealth has befallen them. Who is now the master and who is to be the servant? Cold cereal, shaving razors, soda pop, and beer is presented with scantily clad light and white complected females, boasting their breasts and bottoms with pride, supported by rich green dollars of slobbering alcohol drenched, back slapping neophytes and Neanderthals. Waitresses are pinched, kissed, and slapped in the name of jest, subtlety, and lust. Giant screen television with lifelike dramatizations and alienations saturate the horde of rampaging elbow-benders galore. The reach across the way was caught by the studious husband of a flirtatious wife, even though he had completed his condemned covenant breaking rendezvous, returning from across the way.

Griping and groaning, because the snow won’t stop falling when they wanted it to. Did the snow fall purposely to mess up their day, to ruin their plans? What are the benefits of snow while you work the shovel and throw the stuff over there – across the way? Have you been sick? Had a cold? What do you think happens to the spittle found all over the sidewalks when the old dirty snow is melted, shoveled, scooped, and piled over there – across the way?

Cars, buses, trucks, trains and planes have succumbed to the wrath of the winter’s inclement onslaught. Its highways and byways smothered in white fluff and icy-cold. The trees, many of them elderly, reluctant to bearing the weight of stuff falling on them from the sky. They’ve decided and were forced to bend and break and utilize suburban houses and support poles as buffers on their way downward to restful sidewalks and grounds, there across the way.

The humans, many of highly secured and “well-to-do” means, were suddenly and abruptly denied their basic needs. Never mind the ones who’ve lived their lives continually, without the things they take for granted.

The cold winds howled and blew. It huffed and puffed and blew everything down. Water pipes froze and burst. Many wiped their dry mouths lusting with thirst, for want of a glass of water. After several days, the agony began to drive them mad – to the brink of murder. The lights were off. The TV didn’t work. The Kindle would not fire due to the dead and dying batteries. Nowhere was any convenient every day, ordinary power of any kind. Transportation was no longer an optional package of consideration for them over there, across the way.

The car started up fine, but it was of no use, no good. There were no longer available amenities for the cute little cul-de-sacs that were now pools of plight and despair, brewing a pending inevitable platform for starvation. Hot, live electric wires and power lines were untouchable, unapproachable. No more matches, paper, or firewood was available for lighting warmth in the fireplace. The gas grill was empty of propane. The charcoal grill killed a few families who didn’t wish to freeze to death in the safety of their broken, busted, and exposed homes.

One guy wondered, “What did the Indians do? Are we going to die like the pilgrim settlers, leaving the safety of the sea going vessels that carried them here to the Americas? I remember that wagon train in the western time mountains – they got stuck in hundreds of feet of snow and began to eat each other for survival. What did they use for a cook fire? Where are the Indians when you need them? They could help us survive! Please, won’t somebody tell us what to do?”          

Some of the residents were fortunate enough to make the shelter circuit. Two weeks in, the repair crews were indefatigable in their dedication of restoring power to the various out of town communities.

The heavy-set Black Man, a power company supervisor, addressed the derelict destitute and depraved semi-homeless vagrants. He paid them a cordial visit, simply to reassure them, and report the power teams’ daily progress. He wanted to let them know how soon they could begin to return to their homes. But that was not to be. Savage and unjustly attacked was he. They hit him with verbal assaults from any and every direction. They wanted satisfaction now – right now.

“You are telling a damned lie! We are tired of waiting for you slow moving useless and worthless jabber jaws!”

He tried in vain to calm the people, none of which who looked like him. When he could not bring peace and control to the raucous group, he reached for his belongings that had been taken from him. They stole his lunch box, books and papers he’d brought to the meeting, and grabbed for his outer clothing. They were confiscated as well. He bolted from the room screaming into his cell phone and radio for help that would never come. Losing the radio as he made his life saving escape, the rampaging entities of the helpless suburbanites with the appearance of chalk-faced zombies, turned on and began attacking each other. They could not see eye-to-eye, they could not reason with any inkling of sanity. They came from over there, across the way.

The wind, rain, snow, and ice stopped falling – then after six hours had past, began again for twenty-four more hours. It all stopped and subsided, then left completely. It was clear that someone, something was watching them. It, Them, She, or He was watching to see how the tables had turned – how the tide has fared… The One who is The Most High, the One who sat and watched them of means – when it is all gone. He saw what they did, how they did…from over there – across the way.
 

 Til Next Time…
 

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