What in hell is a hearth
built on blood of a brother’s
harvest you absconded,
along with a curve of land
kissed by ocean for first people
given this fine land,
who were sickened
on your flu-filled flannel gifts
until they were too weak
to wise on to your malicious plans?
You merchant-adventurers of Weymouth,
mount your monument of treason
against corn-fed Wessagusset,
as you celebrate 300 years
of your encroachment on eternity’s placement
of a people who had heroes
like Pecksuot who, even thirty years ago,
still, is said, tucked a child into her covers
at Bricknell house so she did not have to see
your scurrilous skirmishes.
You promote your pestilent importance
on this land, as if you thought
you would be allowed to stay forever.
You hold a fatal flaw in this grasp
to make it seem you made something worthy.
What is worthier than Wampanoag
in first light, who had their blood spilled
by you, on the very ground you grind against?
Listen, they speak, and trace truthful steps
through and around this place you think you own:
Such pride and prejudice in this piece of cement
that will not outlast us, the true people of the East,
or sun that burns red on mornings it remembers.
Author notes
Sometimes things like this make me so angry...how pretentious of Weymouth to think they have done something of honor....
Google history of Weymouth, MA, and then add +native american perspective if you want a truer look at what really happened so they could abscond the land of the People of First Light.
"During March 1622 Myles Standish lured two Chiefs to a meeting then murdered them. The attached picture depicts how the town of Weymouth, Mass, takes pride in his barbaric deed. " - Dr. Main
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This is a really passionate piece of writing. I love how you manage to create such message and imagery in your verse while keeping a great rhythm. The topic is direly important, and something I feel I should pay more notice towards. The 'colonizing' of places like America and Australia were horrific and barbarous and the Weymouth stone is further dirt in the wound. Tragedy in history should be remembered so it never happens again, great message and as always - an incredible poem.
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Writing about my people's displacement is very improtant to me, and I would defend them to the end...in fact, nearly did a couple of times.
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It saddens me when I hear of such atrocities being committed and then reviewed in history as great feats of bravery. God help us all. This poem says it all, with a controlled passion. Bravo
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ty cutiepie... I have come to a place where all my passions are important to me..I have to honor them..and when I feel anger/angst, and all the other passions.., the safest thing for me is to put pen to paper.
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