COLLARD GREENS DREAMS

A generational recipe for telling our history 

Salt and seasonings bring flavor to the stories.

The vinegar brings a tartness to the bitterness of truth.

Collard greens dreams

Something so simple becomes a king's feast.

It is comfortable and warm, and its history makes you want more.

The passing of traditions and rituals of life 

From the grandmother's lips to the granddaughter's ears

Words filled with pride one day it will be her time.

Collard greens dreams

Something so simple it is fit for a queen.

Satisfying flavor cooked with love.

Planting the seeds in the gardens of ancestry

The tomatoes, peppers, beans, and the collard greens

Life reaching up from the soil, feeling the warmth of the sun  

Collard green dreams

Something so simple, one taste makes a poor man feel like a prince. 

Nourishing memories that hold the history of this recipe is a gift.

©Copyright Thomas Dooley 2021

NOTES: 

NO DIRECTION

Step up to the line without going over

Thinking you're a soldier but your only a loner

Looking to deceptive things for some direction.

With a gun in your hand, feeling like your a man.

Thinking you own this ancient land

The things you believe are not your own and give you no direction.

But you are the dust in the wind guided by sin.

Your willing to give up your freedoms just to say you win

You're intimidated by lies and fears; these have no direction.

Convoluted thoughts mixed with an uneducated mind you hide.

Unaware of other's misery only to find your on the wrong side of history

Thoughts and prayers give no comfort, no direction.

Complaining and calling names will never let you get your way.

Hearing only one voice now rehab is your only choice.

Your angry dry tears yelling to a deaf ear; there is no direction.

©Copyright Thomas Dooley 2020

 

BORN OF PAIN / STOLEN NAME

Born of pain cursed to live that way
A forgotten name marked with shame
Guilt by association becomes your fame

A stolen name becomes the scares on the back of a forgotten man.

Fading away to become the dust of another land

Bitterness replaced by forgiveness justice is a slap of the back of a hand.

Born of pain the mind struggle the mental slaying 

The community broke apart day after day.

Families striving for a better way

A stolen name becomes a nations bitterness

Contempt for the past without forgiveness

Celebrating a heritage of hatefulness

Born of pain crushed by the inhumanity 

No matter how sharp the knife we still bleed

Reparations will not make you free

A stolen name becomes the bust on the history page.

A platform of uneducated political rage

Fact and feeling become the moves of this game.

©Copyright Thomas Dooley 2020

  

DIASPORA GUILT

Is this what my ancestors felt
When leaving their homes for a better world
No longer I am on the path they took

Diaspora guilt
Now history is a bitter pill
Dreams scheduled to be killed

No compensation for the hate
Ignorance is the only food they ate
With another serving on their plate

Diaspora guilt
Now the truth is a bitter pill
No standing up for it get out your cameras and film

The privilege can't feel any pain
They have no sense of shame
It is always the victim they blame

Diaspora guilt
Now education is a bitter pill
The blooming youth just die and wilt

Reading, writing, and arithmetic no longer the way
Now it is only words of hate anyone can say
Thoughts and prayers will not make a new day


©Copyright Thomas Dooley 2019