Wednesday, November 28, 2007

    White Flour

    WHITE FLOUR - A Terrific Poem by David LaMotte - November 28th, 2007 by Christine Kane

    (a true story about events that occurred on May 26, 2007. © 2007 Lower Dryad Music)

    The day was bright and sunny as most May days tend to be
    In the hills of Appalachia down in Knoxville, Tennessee
    The men put on their uniforms and quickly took their places
    In white robes and those tall and pointed hoods that hid their faces

    Their feet all fell in rhythm as they started their parade
    They raised their fists into the air, they bellowed and they brayed
    They loved to stir the people up, they loved when they were taunted
    They didn’t mind the anger, that’s precisely what they wanted

    As they came around the corner, sure enough, the people roared
    They couldn’t quite believe their ears, it seemed to be – support?
    Had Knoxville finally seen the light, were people coming ‘round?
    The men thought for a moment that they’d found their kind of town

    But then they turned their eyes to where the cheering had its source
    As one their faces soured as they saw the mighty force
    The crowd had painted faces, and some had tacky clothes
    Their hair and hats outrageous, each had a red foam nose

    The clowns had come in numbers to enjoy the grand parade
    They danced and laughed that other clowns had come to town that day
    And then the marchers shouted, and the clowns all strained to hear
    Each one tuned in intently with a gloved hand to an ear

    “White power!” screamed the marchers, and they raised their fisted hands
    The clowns leaned in and listened like they couldn’t understand
    Then one held up his finger and helped all the others see
    The point of all this yelling, and they joined right in with glee

    “White flour!” they all shouted and they felt inside their clothes
    They pulled out bags and tore them and huge clouds of powder rose
    They poured it on each other and they threw it in the air
    It got all over baggy clothes and multi-colored hair

    All but just a few of them were joining in the jokes
    You could almost see the marchers turning red beneath white cloaks
    They wanted to look scary, they wanted to look tough
    One rushed right at the clowns in rage, and was hauled away in cuffs

    But the others chanted louder marching on around the bend
    The clowns all marched along with them supporting their new friends
    “White power!” came the marchers’ cry — they were not amused
    The clowns grew still and thoughtful; perhaps they’d been confused?

    They huddled and consulted, this bright and silly crowd
    They listened quite intently, then one said “I’ve got it now!”
    “White flowers!” screamed the happy clown and all the rest joined in
    The air was filled with flowers, and they laughed and danced again

    “Everyone loves flowers! And white’s a pretty sort!
    I can’t think of a better cause for marchers to support!”
    Green flower stems went flying like small arrows from bad archers
    White petals covered everything, including the mad marchers

    And then a very tall clown called the others to attention
    He choked down all his chuckles, and said “Friends I have to mention
    That what with all the mirth and fun it’s sort of hard to hear
    But now I know the cause that these strange marchers hold so dear

    “Tight showers!” the clown blurted out, and hit his head in wonder
    He held up a camp shower and the others all got under
    Or at least they tried to get beneath, they strained but couldn’t quite
    There wasn’t room for all of them, they pushed, but it was tight

    “White Power!” came their marchers’ cry, quite carefully pronounced
    The clowns consulted once again, then a woman clown announced
    “I’ve got it! I’m embarrassed that it took so long to see
    But what these marchers march for is a cause quite dear to me!”

    “Wife power!” she exclaimed and all the other clowns joined in
    They shook their heads and laughed at how mistaken they had been
    The women clowns were hoisted up on shoulders of the others
    Some pulled on wedding dresses, “Here’s to wives and mothers!”

    The men in robes were angry and they knew they’d been defeated
    They yelled a few more times and then they finally retreated
    And when they’d gone a black policeman turned to all the clowns
    And offered them an escort to the center of the town

    The day was bright and sunny as most May days tend to be
    In the hills of Appalachia down in Knoxville, Tennessee
    People joined the new parade, the crowd stretched out for miles
    The clowns passed out more flowers and made everybody smile

    And what would be the lesson of that shiny southern day?
    Can we understand the message that the clowns sought to convey?
    Seems that when you’re fighting hatred, hatred’s not the thing to use
    So here’s to those who march on in their massive, silly shoes

    link | Via: Asheville native performer, Christine Kane

    [Read the back story Right Here about a KKK rally in Knoxville, TN, about "White Power" and a counter protest with the of "White Flour".]