Vox Populi
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Robert Okaji: Scarecrow Calls Out the Man
These things I cannot name: that finger of night
between fear and peace, in which darkness both cloaks
and hugs the wide-eyed. A snake, in the open. And that space
behind the watcher? Perhaps it is easier to call it something
else – a gasp, or the immeasurable measure. A presidential
folly. My friends, ever cautious, swoop in and away, taking
with them only those grains they need, unlike you. What use
is a hoarded larder if it rots? How does one come to want
everything and nothing at the same time? A gilded house
spotlights wealth, not right. Is this edifice your legacy,
your monument to self? The heart monitor’s blip paints one
forever, your pursed lips, another. But even the concrete
you cringe behind lacks permanency; regard your hands
and all they can’t stuff into your pockets. Loosen that
coiled tie lest it choke you. Accept what the mirror sees,
and await karma. Though you will not hear my voice,
I offer this: may the combined weight of your lies and
larcenies, your unpaid debts and power plays, rapes,
casual racism, privilege and coarse, childish taunts, merge
into one fist-size bankroll placed upon your chest, and
fueled by the gravitational forces of forty-four black holes,
slowly, with each turn of the earth’s axis, press down and
down and down in search of that shriveled organ, and finding
it, pluck out and replace it with one resembling that of a
genuine human, one honoring respect and love, empathy
and humility. I am the sum of integrated, discarded
pieces assembled to observe and warn, collecting only
diminishment and the means to become less. Wanting
little, the world welcomes me. It arrives free, honest, on
wings, bringing wealth beyond your reach, your greed.
I own nothing. I know nothing. But this: I name you
Scourge, and laugh at the smallness of you. I name you
Farce. I name you Empty. I name you Gone.
Copyright 2017 Robert Okaji
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Robert Okaji
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I think this is where we as poets need to direct our blows. Okaji’s latest Scarecrow is an astounding evolution in his writing, to my understanding. Here, a poet who writes personal impressions based on tone and meter suddenly rages against an enemy of the state in one of his most beautiful and thought provoking pieces yet. It is a direction that merits consideration.
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That was so awesome that I scarcely have words to define its awesomeness. It captures and embodies a collective anger, dismay, and a need for karmic vengeance that only the universe can provide. Well done.
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So powerful. If only the right people would read it.
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Wow. Scarecrow speaks with powerful awareness. A very well-defined likeness.
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Wow. Scarecrow speaks with powerful awareness. A very precise likeness.
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For Scarecrow to say such things, means that the situation is pretty dire.
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Reblogged this on O at the Edges and commented:
A companion piece to this morning’s poem.
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In awe of your powerful words Scarecrow. I hear it and I thank you!
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Splendid! This says it all.. Thank you.
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powerful and honest. Thank you.
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Thank you.
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wonderful
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Thank you, Steve. Much appreciated.
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Outstanding!
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Thank you, Sarah.
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SCRIPTURE IN MODERN LANGUAGE. THIS IS WHAT JESUS WOULD SAY IF HE
APPEARED FOR THE FIRST TIME TODAY. VERY INSPIRATIONAL AND A WARNING FOR OUR TIME. WELL DONE, BOB.
RON
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Thanks very much, Ron.
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Wow! What a pronouncement on society today and its lack of authenticity!
Dwight
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Scarecrow just tells it like he sees it, Dwight. Thank you.
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Outstanding, amazing poem. The gravitational pull of 44 black holes! Great!
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Thanks very much, Greg. Much appreciated.
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Love his work. This line was a favorite: casual racism, privilege and coarse, childish taunts, merge
Well done Robert.
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Thank you!
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Well said, Scarecrow. The soft edge of the shadows cast by that finger of night grow harder with each passing day.
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Perhaps they’ll soften in time.
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Applause for Scarecrow’s calling – and for Okaji’s poem
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Thank you, Jazz.
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This is amazing!
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Thanks very much.
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