Thursday, October 23, 2014

I'VE HEARD MOST IF IT AND SEEN IT ALL



THE REAL DETROIT
In review I look at the list of things I have yet to do, both want and need. I know with each passing season the reason becomes more critical and less desirable. I am though, become a slouch not quite ever ready, willing, or wanting to get off the couch. Lazy? Maybe. Tired? Sick? Yes both the latter definitely. It is this place, this concrete covered space, this union between racism and harmony that takes motion and holds me (e)motionless. White ofay devil that Jesus has no love for with the your boot on the black man’s neck still, and ever will, the nigger pricks never had a job or worked at anything harder than rolling dice to win a gun used to murder, drugged schemes, rob babies of parents dreams, killed by prison stretches. Wretches is all that’s left living in this arena, lion or prey. Kneel to pray no never, never ever bend a knee before a preachin’ dog who robs the poor box. Special folk who keep that box key in the pocket of a two thousand dollar suit hanging in the back seat of a seventy thousand dollar ride, now pimped out on thirty sixes. Doing the Lords work is the last profitable employment left in this world cut loose from the rest. Fuck them all, the white baby rapers and the black pulpit pimps who only look to their own while telling me I don’t motherfucking belong simply because I be white. There is so very little right left in this place that it just marches along ignorant of its own ignoble end. I can’t be sent away or forced out and being a thorn in this crown of racist filth is worth the idleness of dreams not worth moving for.

© M Durfee
10.23.2014

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

A HANDFUL OF SCATTERED SEED



ROOTED AND GROWING
I am living in the garden grown, one of the many seeds sown. I make no determination towards my beauty of being or appalling uselessness in the gardener’s seeing. I was birthed in this place and given no conditions to how I should grow. I would like to be a flower plucked to make a bouquet for a lover’s heart, yet it is not my fate to determine if I am good enough to be a part of that kind of display. I may after all be nothing but a weed choking off life for something more pretty or useful than me. No life can resist its fate, be it bountiful or, another kind of life to abate. I am but a simple thing grown from a seed to fill a space until I have proven I am worthy of life in this place. In silence I my fate await and ‘til the seasons turning no matter my physical being I will enjoy the rain and the sun as my simple reason for being.


© M Durfee
10.21.2014

Friday, October 17, 2014

LETTERS FROM HOME: LIFE IN THE LAWLESS LANDS

Another one killed yesterday in the 9th, there have been so many kids this year I have lost count



Another whiny ass cop who works (supposedly in the 9th precinct)


I live in the 9th precinct, I commonly refer to it as the lawless lands. This is the same area that has killed at least three children this year, beat Steve Utash nearly to death for trying to help a kid who was playing car tag and lost, and a 5 hour to never police response time is the norm unless the situation is big enough for the chief to get his face on TV. The little girl who's name never gets a mention in the story and who will be forgotten next week, was big enough.

I used to make excuses, but then the whiny ass cop let the truth out, the 9th precinct in Detroit is historically the Detroit Police Department shit can. It is where they send all them they want to quit or never get promoted and in return we who live here get police indifference. Do whatever the fuck you want just don't expect a cop while you're being fucked up.

People around me wonder why I stay here, I can leave, but this is my home, this is where the majority of my life's diary has been written and the last 25 years of it here in #9.

Detroit for 30 -40 years has had a bit of an arson problem, you expect that sort of thing with 80,000 derelict and abandoned homes and business'. Every year they call for volunteers to keep an eye out, to watch for suspicious activity the days surrounding Halloween. This stems from 1974 when there were 300 odd fires in one night. It became such a tourist industry people would visit Detroit and insist on high floor rooms in downtown facing the city so they could watch the city light up. Personally I don't think burning abandoned vacant buildings is so bad, except they usually have an inhabited building right between them.

Volunteer? My ass, not when the cops won't do their job.



So the bankruptcy is winding down, the biggest losers are 23,000 retired city employees who had a total of $7.3 billion of the city's debt hung on them. Losing medical care in exchange for for a HSA and anywhere from 10-20% of pension money. The biggest winners are the Wall Street companies that have been given downtown land in Disney by the River and city income streams, in the form of parking lots and structures and tolls from the tunnel to Canada. They will have made up any losses which are at most 20% of what was hung on retirees.


I have no problem writing my rebuttals to this bullshit in the comments section. Of course neither daily would offer me a job.


Well you know what we say: "Fuck 'em, that's life in Detroit."


Have A Blessed Day

TWM




Wednesday, October 15, 2014

MAN DAMN IT, EVERY DAY IS JUDGMENT DAY



27 BLACK ROBES WITH SKELETONS IN THEM HELD UP BY WIRE HANGERS JUDGING ME.

Is it really a surprise or did you fail to ask before you started to task others with your own thoughts and compel them to see through your eyes the sights that make up your view. Do you really want to share the only pew in a sacred place known to none but you? In the holy grotto of your heart, where is born the idea that love is only of one kind?

I cannot count how many times the road was made too long, because I was adamantly wrong. Is it better to let me hold onto what I believe or force upon me a redemption I don’t need to receive from men who only care that they have a crowd to lead? I am not what you perceive and not one who longs to spend my life in grief, though I do, with nowhere to the left to swim in waters of relief.

I find all my dream as in all schemes want to be, is crowded out, away from me, because I forgot to ask if it was fine that I dine alone. Never ask a forgotten man to tea; for after many years when he appears he’ll never be what you remembered him to be when you were his parentless child.

Try not to touch the fossils though they be rock hard. Learning comes from looking for answers not by using old bones as drum sticks to bang out the plethora of needs that surround us all, each with a different use for nineteen cents a day, with millions of dollars spent asking for that pittance for everything from veterans to animal shelters. I don’t have that many nineteen cents for remittance because every time I turn around the government is hitting me with more penance as it sells to the rich indulgence.

I know, I know it’s really not a surprise that I failed to ask, before I started to task others with my own thoughts and compel them to see through my eyes the sights that make up my view. I simply decided to do what I had to do to get in on the act of manipulating your heart with sad puppy dog eyes stipulating I do take monthly direct deposit for my cause célèbre: me.


© M Durfee
10.15.2014