FOUR FEATHERS PRESS ONLINE EDITION: CITY LIVING Send up to three poems on the subject of or just using either the words city and/or living totaling up to 150 lines in length in the body of an email message or attached in a Word file to donkingfishercampbell@gmail.com by 11:59 PM PST on February 16th. No PDF's please. Color artwork is also desired. Please send in JPG form. No late submissions accepted. Poets and artists published in Four Feathers Press Online Edition: City Living will be published online and invited to read at the Saturday Afternoon Poetry Zoom meeting on Saturday, February 17th between 3 and 5 pm PST.

Wednesday, February 14, 2024

Carl Stilwell AKA CaLokie

Though Your Sins be as Scarlet 


December, 1953

Freshman year at Oklahoma Baptist University 

located in Shawnee, city named after first people’s 

nation led by Tecumseh who died 140 years ago 

in battle defending ancestral homeland from 

occupation by Anglo-Saxon settler colonialists


Under darkening purple skies in Pontiac sedan, 

our university evangelistic team drives to 

Indian tuberculosis sanatorium 

Icy north wind from Arctic blasts pink cheeks as we 

step out of car parked on sanatorium asphalt lot


Blue-eyed preacher from Southern Baptist university

stands in cowboy boots before plate glass window 

along blanched beige wall separating healthy 

settler-colonial descendants from coughing 

and wheezing indigenous inmates lying in 

or sitting upon hospital beds


In warm, earnest tone, he assures those behind 

dark brown eyes in Ghost Dance trance that 

though their sins be as scarlet, they shall be 

as white as snow through the precious 

blood of our Lord Jesus Christ


We stand upon the cold, concrete floor above 

the moist, crimson soil of the state where 

the Trail of Tears came to an end and sing,

 “Just as I am without one plea 

but that thy blood was shed for me”

 

Oklahoma is from Choctaw words which mean Land of Red People




THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE*


2000-pound bomb,

paid for by our tax dollars has 

her name along with those 

of the rest of her family  

written on it, 

levels

their Gaza City apartment building

Within debris shadows, 

glimpse 

of light emerges.


“When they shelled us with the second missile, 

I woke up and was surrounded by rubble. 

I realized that my leg had been cut off, 

because there was blood and I had no leg. 

“I tried to move it, but it wouldn’t move. 

My father and mother were martyred. 

My brother Mohammad and my sister Dalia also.


“I want someone to take me abroad, 

to any country, to install a prosthetic leg, 

to be able to walk like other people, 

so that I can move and go out 

and play with other kids. 


“I want to become a doctor, like 

those who treat us, so that 

I can treat other children. 

I only want one thing: 

for the war to end.”


On December 17th,  

shell in Israel tank gun

paid for by our tax dollars 

with name of 12 year old girl 

recovering in Gaza hospital 

written on it, 

is fired—


Peace be upon you,

Dunia Abu Mosen


May all who have witnessed 

that little light of yours—

                Let it shine

        Let it shine

Let it shine


* From the news story, “Absolutely Unimaginable”: Children in Gaza Face Amputations Without Anesthesia, Death & Disease, DEMOCRACY NOW, DECEMBER 28, 2023


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