Martin Wiley
February, 2003

When dealing with art as opposed to propaganda (which I think has it's own, important function), I look at three different goals that I feel art must achieve. Some things will seek to achieve a balance of all three, others will lean heavily in one direction, but aspects of all three are always present. I would stress, however, that this is my opinion of political art and not a leftist dictionary doctrine or whatever. People must obviously find what works for them, but hopefully these goals could help serve as a starting ground for people to create their own.

Goal #1: Inform

So much political information is either hard for people to find, kept in extremely limited circles, or written in styles that have limited appeal. I personally love a good Noam Chomsky book, but not everyone does, nor should everyone. The political artist takes information others may never see as well as information others may not be able to understand or analyze and puts it in a place and context that makes it more accessible.

Goal #2: Uplift

So often we are broken down from the work we do. I know myself there are too many meetings, too many early mornings, and too little time to remember why I do what I do. Political art can show us how beautiful the world is and how wonderful we are, without distracting us. It reminds us that things are worth struggling for and gives our souls strength to keep pushing.

Goal #3: Raise Questions

Sometimes we are so busy working we don't pay enough attention to what we are doing. Sometimes we push aside or suppress thoughts feelings, or realities that may be awkward, or uncomfortable. Sometimes we act as if we all agree, even when we know we don't. In my opinion, the most important role of political art is to force us to see and question things that we try not to. To hold a mirror up to both our beauty and our pain. To make us think.

the some of the whole (Goal #1)
This was an attempt to move beyond "three-word-chants" to a more in depth expression of what's going on, but still maintaining the repetitive power that chants and slogans have. I'm not certain that it succeeds, but I think it stands as a good example of getting information out in a more emotional, down to earth style.

the some of the whole
by Martin Wiley

some will delight
in dollars dropping from the sky
a daily delivery
from the humdrum boredom
of everyday riches
while some will die in ditches
some will pray for life
some will pray for fame
on Nightline & CNN
some will become a game on Nintendo & Playstation
some will make so much money
they couldn't even pay people to count it
some will be seen on your TV
some will be absent from your screen
some will own your TV
some will sell you wars on TV
some will sell you on TV
some will own your TV
& you will only see
through their eyes
some will smile & tell you pretty lies
& you will smile
& forgive them
as you pretend that you didn't listen
some will speak of liberty & democracy
abstract words we never see
& we will still believe when they say that we are free
without even bothering to ask for proof
some will profile me by my face
& some will claim, "this has nothing to do with race"
some will claim to fight evil
some will fight evil with evil ways
unholy Sundays of fire
Ramamdan be gone because the Saints-go-Marchin'-On
some will sell weapons to those considered good
some will sell weapons to those considered evil
some will claim this makes us all equal
though the good remain eligible for a discount at all of the finest military industrial complexes
some will cutback on expenses with subsidized submarines & marked down machine guns
some will buy Stinger missiles & b-52 bombers concussion grenades & pepper spray foggers
some will pay no price for eating up other's borders as long as they are good
& follow the right orders
some will scrawl their good intentions
with bad guy's blood & small intestines
& some will call it glorious
some will ask me not to shout
some will flex their pacifist clout
some will live with their doubt
some will sit home & cry
some will struggle & toil
& some will remember
it's all about the oil
some will put aside differences
for the good of the country
some will convince you that you have plenty
some will cheer for war on an empty stomach
some will be too hungry to cheer
some will hide their faces in fear
some will hide their faces in shame
some will show their faces but hide the blame
some will run to the hills
some will practice air raid drills
check their water for oil spills
& flee from iron birds hunting late-night kills
some will curse a world that doesn't care
some will drop a meal or two from the air
some will rather die than share
some will be too hungry to care
some will be too hungry to live
some will spend fortunes on pills
& plans to lose weight
some will claim it's all just a quirk of fate
some will burn with hate
some will burn cities with their hate
some will hate the government
some will say "He's not our President"
some will claim he's heaven-sent
some will pray to heaven to pay the rent
some will pray for a bulletproof tent
some will grow opium
as the only way to survive
some will sell opium
some will allow them to sell opium
some will make profits off of opium
some will make more money from opium
than from oil
some will still remember it's all about the oil
some will blame it on the Jews
some will blame it on you
some will make the world a jail for your protection
some will hide from secret police attention
some will die for Homeland Security
some will say "Thank the Good Lord it's not me"
some will advise you to run
some will dance to a drum never forgotten
some will march & carry signs
some will say "an eye for an eye leaves the world blind"
some will declare war on Third World Warriors
some will seek the heads of kings & courtiers
some will find solace in a lover's bed
some will fight even harder
when they are dead
some will linger inside your head
some will linger inside your head
some will say
we deserve what we get
& some
will whisper
neverforget

Like You (Goal #2)
This is my all time favorite poem. When I feel down, or when I feel joyous, it helps to keep me centered and sane. I find it so simple and touching. I think it speaks for itself.

Like You
by Roque Dalton
(from Clandestine Poems)

Like you I
love love, life, the sweet smell
of things, the sky-blue
landscape of January days.
And my blood boils up
and I laugh through eyes
that have known the buds of tears.
I believe the world is beautiful
and that poetry, like bread, is for everyone.
And that my veins don't end in me
but in the unanimous blood
of those who struggle for life,
love,
little things,
landscape and bread,
the poetry of everyone.

Bitter Harvest (Goal #3)
This is a poem I began right after Sept. 11th, as a means to try to deal with all of the feelings that were being raised inside of me. It started out as separate haiku, but when they were done I realized they belonged together. When it was done and I read it there were thoughts and feelings expressed that I don't know if I agree with or am happy with but, to me, that made this poem more important. It's not about whether or not you agree with it, it's about what it makes you think and feel. And why you think and feel the way you do.

Bitter Harvest
by Martin Wiley

this, the sudden pain
and the fear of the unknown --
our bitter harvest

fed on Death and War
raised on Poverty and Fear
growing only Hate

when morning fell I
tore inside -- a pain as bright
and sharp as moonlight

what meaning has Truth
when we can not trust the sky,
and when the world falls?

what War would you stop?
for what Wars are being waged
right now, in your name?

victims worldwide now
dancing to The Big Payback --
we're all just Strange Fruit

experts speak, calm,
certain, never questioning
their role in all this

if you feed the mob
remember: they always bite
the hand that strokes them

lies hide behind shouts
dying culture wrapped in flags,
to cover the rot

there is no home here
and I would burn your world down
to build myself one

for I can't return
to a home I never knew--
I'm what you made me

and don't speak of peace
your peace requires my silence--
and I would die first

I've always known you
I've had to learn to survive
this world you've killed

I embrace my rage
and if this act frightens you --
you are not alone

I'll keep on fighting
resisting screaming until
you get off my back

and from these ashes
of manifest destiny
my new life is born

no more songs of grief
force a new sound to be heard--
the call of the Wild

not a call to go
back to yesterday -- for we
were dying then, too

merely a demand
for a new way of thinking --
an ancient new-ness

for we are tired
tired of Wars and Money
things we never win

and the Chains of Time
have all shattered in our wake
and buried your past

a new Way of Life
bursting from the wreckage of
your bitter harvest