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Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Violins and Bullies by B. Sharise Moore

Peacock Feathers & Ruby Slippered Souls the upcoming release from B. Sharise Moore

Violins and Bullies

(For Tyler Clementi and Every Bullycide Victim Across the Country)

the boy was born a violin.
cheeks like rosewood hills
overlooking staggered breaths
of symphony
pudgy legs were
wish bones wrapped
in 6/8 time
21 inches of whole note.
arms like expertly strung bows
and a tiny chest cavity alive
with the thumping of
finely tuned heartstrings.
an orchestra of synapse and spine.

but somewhere between boyhood
adolescence and sheet music
began the bullying.
made him
rubber tongued
and tired.
swollen with a shrunken esteem
free only when he climbed
inside himself.

the bullied
are the homeless, the hitchhikers
the easy to ignore
they are hemophiliacs left to bleed
through their book bags
while waiting on the support
we never give them
so they continue the long walk
backward through life.

but beyond the shit and urine stench
of humiliation streamed live
on computer screens
I'm sure our silence had to hurt more.
burned like the sizzling brand on a slave's hand,
twisted like a finger nearly dislodged
in a rust-hinged door.

for their suffering
we give them our nothings...
our outdated adages of
sticks and stones breaking
bones but names never
hurting. treating 2010
as if it were 1970.
we give him Brady Bunch advice:
“He has to learn to ignore them. He'll live...”

But what then when he doesn't
what then when he chooses ash
over orchestra. suicide over symphony.
when he chooses an old leather belt
a pistol or a suspension bridge
to confide in. perhaps there is a warmth
in the butt of the gun, the belt, the bridge.
maybe they provide the promise
that the homophobic jeers will end infinitely.

since we offer no such solutions
we are handcuffed and
hands off helpless
reactionary and unreasonable
when martyrdom has no viable cause
we weep over what ifs and inaction

But who will stand?

Who will stand and say:
you will not distort his image within glass
offer him to carnival freak shows
and funhouses. you will not make him
frivolous entertainment.

Who will stand and say:
you will not mince his thoughts
into fright making him perpetual gloom.
you will not butcher his freedom
with cleaver. force him to wear his lungs
like long john's. chase him into tunnels
where his innards are slaughtered in shadow.
you will not kill him because he is skinny or
awkward or overweight or gay
nor will you drive him to kill himself

I don't give a damn about the
religion that made you raise a monster
and neither does your God
because whomever that God may be
I'm sure He or She believes in a tolerance and
a mercy and a love that you have yet to understand.

the boy was born a violin
cheeks like rosewood hills
overlooking the staggered breaths
of symphony
but somewhere between boyhood
adolescence and sheet music
began the bullying.
he knew he'd only be free
when he climbed
back inside himself. hoped
to live his next life as a whole note
in an orchestra of synapse and spine
and yes, he will live...

Tyler Clementi, age 18, you will live.
Eric Mohat, age 17, you will live
Justin Aaberg, age 15, you will live
Billy Lucas, age 15, you will live
Asher Brown, age 13, you will live
Seth Walsh, age 13, you will live
Carl Joseph Walker Hoover, age 11, you will live
Jaheem Hererra, age 11, you will live

You will live because
I will stand and make it so...

© 2010, B. Sharise Moore

1 comment:

  1. a need and most well expressed message here. This is beyond the realm of mere adulations.