

Poems for Hurricane Katrina Victims
September 29, 2005
Tell Me
By Stanice Anderson
Tell Me
A story that I have not heard
Lead me to prayer
Give me an encouraging word
Tell me
A story that will teach me how to see
That God loves and cherishes even me
Tell me
A story of God’s goodness and power
So I won’t give up in this next hour
Tell Me
A story of what He’s done for you
Then maybe I’ll believe that
He can do the same for me too
Sometimes I get weary
I get weak, I feel worn
Tell Me
A story so I’ll know it is not by mistake
That I was born
Tell me
A story of how God leads the way
Tell Me
A story so that I can get through one more day
Tell me
A story so I won’t feel alone
Tell me
A story of how faith is grown
Does God really work in mysterious ways?
Does God care how I spend the hours of my days?
Does He love me? Does He care?
Will He always be there?
Tell me
A story because sometimes life just ain’t fair
Sometimes I feel like I’m living in a lion’s lair
Tell me
A story and please make it true
I need to know God loves me
As much as He loves you.
Please tell me.
The Redefinition of Looting
By Melanie Henderson
old definition-
plundering or seizing
in time of war or conflict
characterized by
violence
and
corruption
new definition-
finding or happening upon
in time of disaster and/or governmental ineptness
characterized by
suffering
and
despair
Lullaby
when the gulf of Mexico stretches his arms
lays his head on Easy levees
bodies rest under blankets of water
as Louis sings a lullaby
that fills their ears like wrinkled water
Business as Usual
By Melanie Henderson
today
so many things to pray for
so many things to do
right now
the hardest is
fighting back the tears
accepting the reality of blackness
it’s not a color
it’s not a class
it’s not a location
it’s when your leaders
forget to care
or at least act like they do to win
popular approval
like the prayer congress recited September 12
on national television
slapping the faces of their non-Christian citizens
jumping on the four fathers graves
combining church and state
they were too late
with each day
the toll rose
and families worried
wondered if their
loves would come home
and today
so many things to come to terms with
so many things to hold in
right now
the most important action is
saving my people
the ones forgotten
the ones
still treading waters of former bayous
heavy with humidity
and jambalaya recipes
and living room furniture
and saxophones
and spilled cups of Bourbon and Hurricane
inebriating lifeless bodies
floating
like chicory grains on water
brewing a hot mug of
infection
disease
and
tears
and like then
the toll rises
but not like then
the toll didn’t have to be so damn high!
they were too late!
five days is too long
and it doesn’t take that long to respond
…when you care
don’t condemn Kanye
for calling the devil a devil
and today
I sit tired
from incessant praying
that I can do my part
the part our leaders forgot to do
be not me a
pillar of salt
I never turned my back to begin with
running away
in 2005
is not an option
for my people
the world got to see firsthand
how unequal
protocol is when you’re
in a darker shade of skin
none of us can avoid mother nature’s temper tantrums
especially when we keep pissing her off
mistreating the earth is so unwise
cause when she lets off steam
the waters rise
they let our families die
this is not the first time
our humanity has been ignored
our families separated and scattered
extending the meaning of ‘diaspora’