She marches along with the rest
Cradling her belly
Swollen with child
Her chin tilts to the sky and she SHOUTS
Black Lives Matter!
Hands Up!
Don't Shoot!
She's more sad than angry; less angry than sad
She's homeless; the child within is not
Yet
She marches to make the World
For the Other
For her Own
For her Child
- ShotByNess.
Madonna of Syracuse
Politics Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC
“What keeps a poor child in Appalachia poor is not what keeps a poor child in Chicago poor – even if from a distance, the outcomes look the same. And what keeps an able-bodied black woman poor is not what keeps a disabled white man poor, even if the outcomes look the same.”
― Ijeoma Oluo, So You Want to Talk About Race
The only thing that matters is that they are all poor. And if they do not join together to address that situation, they will all remain poor while those who benefit from their poverty will remain rich. This is the truth of racism and sexism and homophobia and xenophobia and religious bigotry. The shared goal of all these evils is to maintain separation between those that have and those that don’t. This is usually accomplished by convincing some percentage of those that don’t that they may one day be a member of the those that have group. They won’t. Ever. But they fall for it. That percentage happens to be 30%.
It is the intersections of the oppressed which will provide the strength to set things right.
ShotByNess.
Intersection
Politics Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC
Wikipedia, Jerry Rescue
On October 1, 1851, William Henry was arrested in Syracuse under the Fugitive Slave Law. Earlier in 1851, Secretary of State Daniel Webster had warned that the law would be enforced even “here in Syracuse in the midst of the next Anti-Slavery Convention.”[1] The arrest was considered a message that the locally unpopular law would be seriously enforced by federal authorities.[1]
Jerry Rescue
Politics Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;But O heart! heart! heart!O the bleeding drops of red,Where on the deck my Captain lies,Fallen cold and dead.O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;Here Captain! dear father!This arm beneath your head!It is some dream that on the deck,You’ve fallen cold and dead.My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;Exult O shores, and ring O bells!But I with mournful tread,Walk the deck my Captain lies,Fallen cold and dead.– Walt Whitman, O Captain! My Captain!
Captain America
Politics Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC
Flourishing vine, whose kindling clusters glow
Beneath the autumnal sun, none taste of thee:
For thou dost shroud a ruin, and below
The rotting bones of dead antiquity.
Wild Grapes
Nature Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC
“Why, Jon, why?” his mother asked. “Why is it so hard to be like the rest of the flock, Jon? Why can’t you leave low flying to the pelicans, the albatross? Why don’t you eat? Jon, you’re bone and feathers!”
“I don’t mind being bone and feathers, Mum. I just want to know what I can do in the air and what I can’t, that’s all. I just want to know.”
Gulls in Acadia
Nature Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC
Just a little something to take our minds off the polar vortex.
– ShotByNess.
Fly fishing on the Salmon River
Nature Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC
I Explain Some Things
You will ask: And where are the lilacs?
And the metaphysics laced with poppies?
And the rain that often beat
his words filling them with holes and birds?
I’ll tell you everything that’s happening with me.I lived in a neighborhood
of Madrid, with church bells,
with clocks, with trees.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .My house was called
the house of flowers, because everywhere
geraniums were exploding: it was
a beautiful house
with dogs and little kids.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Federico, you remember,
from under the earth,
do you remember my house with balconies on which
the light of June drowned flowers in your mouth?
Hermano, hermano!
And one morning everything was burning. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
and ever since then fire,
gunpowder ever since,
and ever since then blood
Bandits with airplanes and with Moors,
bandits with finger-rings and duchesses,
bandits with black friars making blessings,
… kept coming from the sky to kill children,
and through the streets the blood of the children
ran simply, like children’s blood.You will ask why his poetry
doesn’t speak to us of dreams, of the leaves,
of the great volcanoes of his native land?Come and see the blood in the streets,
come and see
the blood in the streets,
come and see the blood
in the streets!
Fasicist CosPlay
Resistance Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC
ShotByNess 