Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays because I really get to bond with my sister. We’ve taken over the responsibility in the kitchen and we cook everything. However, this year I had trouble focusing in the kitchen because I had to write a poem for our church service. If you follow my blog, you already know I suffer from Chronic Procrastination Syndrome. I’ve had CPS for years now and I usually don’t write something until the week/night/hour before it’s due.
This year I decided to try something different. I didn’t want to write the traditional thanksgiving story. I kinda/sorta wanted to tell a story from a totally different perspective. So, I decided to write from a soldier’s, homeless person’s and a regular person’s point-of-view. I wrote the soldier’s part first, then the homeless part, and then I went blank.
My best friend came in from NYC to support my poem at church.
Here’s my bird. I brined it the night before.
Awww, look at the kiddie table.
Here’s my spoken word piece: Food for Thought
He says: God Bless America, the land where his forefathers died and injustice rings free
The country that sent him into the battlefield to fight a war of unjustness in 130 degrees
Still he feels the SON beat/ this battle that doesn’t belong to he
No weapons of mass destruction, Suicide bombers blowing up
Unpinned grenades drop as landmines disrupt
Wikileaks beyond mountain peaks, secrets in his canteen way too deep
Oh say can you see cause some of the folks done gone blind during this catastrophe
He done heard blasphemies from some of the most religious men you’ll ever meet
Even his wife has become cynical cause she never knows when he’ll be deployed
And he hates to see her unhappy so he sends her a care package of god’s joy
Even from a far he still clings to his beliefs
Millions of prayers get sent up and to God’s ears he hopes they reach
When he’s not on the frontlines you can find him on his knees
Draped in the full armour of God cause he still sewing his seeds
This can’t be karma cause he still meets him at his needs
So when he prays a soldier’s prayer, it’s one of thanksgiving
For life, for limbs, for health, for strength, for faith, for hope, for traveling mercy on dessert roads, for protection from dangers unseen, for shielding him from missile regimes, for forgiveness of his use of deadly weapons, for courage to fight when freedom is threatened, for safety, for sanity, for the day he’ll make it back to his family…Food for thought
He says: Sometimes You can find him huddled beneath a bridge, residing behind the viaduct, Sleeping in his car he has no place to live
Sometimes kind people walk by and he has to beg them to give
Cause they get so sick of wondering if this is some kind of trick like giving him a few dollars don’t make sense but he’s in desperate need so he doesn’t ask for dollars just a few cents
They think he’s standing out here on these mean cold streets trying to cop a fix
But if you’ve ever been in need you’ll understand that’s irrelevant
So before he parts his lips to beg, he’s whispers a little prayer to heaven instead
He doesn’t know how he ended up here but he never questioned what God allows him to bear
If he’s sleeping on the streets it must be a part of his walk
A part of his struggle, the wake up call he’s been given to get to the next level
So if he doesn’t eat today still know that he’ll be fed cause There’s nourishment in the word, the lord is his daily bread
His shelter in the time of storm, his guiding light to keep him warm
Blanketed in God’s love, with no roof he has direct access to the heavens above
When he finds a drink in the garbage it’s always half full
Though he has Nothing he still found something to be grateful for scraps, for rags, for hand me downs, for doggie bags, for loose change, for the sound of the rain, for the miraculous blessing he’s found in his pain…that’s food for thought