How the art of poetry relates to social change, with three current examples

Martin Wiley

February,03

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

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