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Righteous Sunday

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Colored pencil art G.Gaul

This is a factual (and partially fictionalized) depiction of one lynching/killing of Mary Turner, a black woman and her unborn baby, in Georgia in 1918. The recently opened National Memorial for Peace and Justice Museum in Montgomery Alabama chronicles approximately 4,000 lynchings of blacks that took place in Jim Crow South (reconstruction South) from circa 1870 to 1968. Including over a hundred lynchings of black women and children. This is an indication of how deep the "systemic racism" is here in America. The horrific, actual killing account is accurate (as brutal as it is) as reported in the newspaper. Early 1800s Black Anti Slavery Activist Nat Turner was an ancestor of Mary Turner.  The Mary Turner Project (MTP), a diverse group of advocates, educators and descendants of Mary Turner, has approved the publishing of this poem.   475 word.

 

Poem of the day notes: As an advocacy poem, this poem has elicited numerous responses from readers on several sites that I am on other than Poetrysoup (Allpoetry, Poemhunter). These responses run the gamut from weeping in regret, to sudden calls to action, to one reader who had to revisit her psychiatrist. This makes me feel that this piece has the power to make a difference. It's surprising how few readers are aware of this horrific situation that existed in Jim Crow South. And with that I can make a contribution through my poetry to make people more aware of systemic racism and become active at fighting against it. Either by joining action groups or simply through their vote. So when this poem draws responses, wins contests, or is featured on sites like this one, it rekindles my faith that people do care. We can be a more compassionate society and quell the hate of discrimination against all people.

 

 

Bands of sunlight Streamed through the curtains Woke up to a glorious spring day In Lowndes County Georgia 1918 Little Sara and Clint jumped in our bed For morning hugs around A day to remember Filled with love, legacy Our people Slipped on my Sunday shirt All crisp 'n fresh, scent of spring Still warm from Sidney's hot iron I went to our closet shelf My prized straw hat perched there Closed my eyes, ran my fingertips Over the rim's stepped ridges Light yellow straw, black satin band My precious lid Reverend Shackelford greeted us In the vestibule where we talked About the day's big event afterwards Following his inspiring Christian sermon In procession, we assembled in the square To watch They brought her out The crowd gasped She wore a tattered house dress Bound tight and gagged She couldn't spout her venom Devil that she was We already got her husband And now we're takin' her No matter the child she carries All the better They hoisted her on the platform Tied her feet, stripped her The crowd exploded with applause Cheers, jeers, giant growls Then strung her upside down Sidney looked at me With that knowing smile The kids hadn't never seen Anyone naked before Let alone a ***** lashed in place In front a y'all Doused her with gas 'n oil Some splashed onlookers As they backed away I looked at Sidney again She knew what I was thinkin' That smart aleck New York Easterner The feed merchant, came to our farm Spewing his rant 'bout how we Oughta treat ******* as equals We argued, almost fought Sidney knew I wanted ta show 'em Show the world in the name of Christ That we are right I was proud to show the kids As they lit her squirmin' body She screamed her muffled evil screams Like the animal that she was Till she fell silent, burnt Deformed into a curled Grotesque Tommy Lee jumped on stage with His Bowie knife and sliced, gutting her And her boiled baby tumbled out With a "little cry", limp Others leaped up and stomped it dead Then sprayed bullets into her Gun smoke and smell of charred flesh Floating over everyone Some put up handkerchiefs Many turned away A canopy of straw hats Covered our town's square On the wooden gallows stage A contorted blackened form alone Hangin' centered there We turned slowly, kids clinging Crowds quieting, half-hanging heap Still smokin' Reverend Shackelford shook his head In approval as he passed by Silently we rode home, Sara wept a bit Children can't understand 'Cept ta know It was epic We explained that she was a devil Her husband and unborn too We needed to do it for their protection That night, we tucked them in With prayers and kisses We were proud of What we done

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 1/30/2021 12:45:00 PM
OMG What a disturbing poem, Greg. So powerful ~ I was so glad to find it published in the International Poetry Fellowship's anthology Life Of Words ~ bravo for this superbly penned write!
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Greg Gaul
Date: 1/30/2021 1:29:00 PM
Thank you as always, Line. You have been a consistent and loyal poetry friend.
Date: 1/19/2020 7:46:00 AM
Greg this is a brilliant poem and one that has great importance.. however, not really what i was looking for in the contest.. Congratulations on your placement in the contest..
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Greg Gaul
Date: 1/19/2020 7:54:00 AM
I greatly respect your comments and the gracious placement. Please indulge my force fitting this piece into your contest. I feared it was a reach and yes, it was too much. Fortunately, you were compassionate.
Date: 1/4/2020 9:03:00 PM
Congratulations on your win in Brian Strand’s contest. Hugs Eve
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Date: 4/6/2019 8:15:00 AM
Wow! This is such a powerful and intense poem, Greg. You convey this horrific tragedy with poetic beauty and urgency. The light your poetic talent shines upon this topic is potent - the irony between the inspiring 'Christian' sermon and the murderous, heinous events to follow is striking. Congratulations on your excellent win with this haunting piece. Warmest wishes.. ~Susan
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Greg Gaul
Date: 4/6/2019 3:15:00 PM
Frankly Susan, I was disappointed not to have done better. I know my poetry falls short but the content is so powerful! But when I looked up and saw your name just ahead of me I felt better. Then I read your notes and saw how you expanded your style, it makes more sense. You have great skill and you show great kindness in writing such touching note to me. Real poets are like that. Thank you.
Date: 4/3/2019 9:57:00 PM
Great write, Greg, congratulations on your win. Hugs Eve ~`*
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Greg Gaul
Date: 4/4/2019 5:22:00 PM
So very kind comment Eve. Obviously, you understand how difficult advocacy poetry is. Greatly appreciate your visit. Always wonderful to be in your company.
Date: 11/5/2018 12:47:00 AM
Wow - powerful write - superb! Sincere congratulations for your awesome win in LuLoo's contest, Greg - blessings and best wishes - keep up the great work, my friend! :-)
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Greg Gaul
Date: 11/5/2018 2:39:00 PM
Advocacy poetry is so hard. Many turn away. So glad you liked it. Maybe it'll bend some minds. Thanks for your comment.
Date: 10/28/2018 6:06:00 PM
Congrats on your win with this disturbing tribute of a horrific chapter in American history. Well done, Greg.
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Greg Gaul
Date: 10/29/2018 6:21:00 AM
Thanks for your comment Line on this somewhat difficult piece. Most appreciated.
Date: 10/28/2018 11:58:00 AM
so deep and dark, beautifully sad. Thank you and congratulations on your placement. -luloo :)
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Greg Gaul
Date: 10/29/2018 6:17:00 AM
Lu Loo, you found something positive to say about this disturbing but (I think) meaningful advocacy poem. I thank you sincerely for that. Most turn away. You turned it into something good.
Date: 9/1/2018 2:33:00 PM
Another acknowledgement of "Man's inhumanity to man, woman, and child". The use of the line breaks adds to the chaotic haste with one reads this tragic remembrance.
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Greg Gaul
Date: 9/1/2018 9:15:00 PM
Thanks John for commenting. This advocacy poem is upsetting for many to read, especially those who are unaware of the racism that is out there. My hope is that it will move some to action. Your help is most appreciated.
Date: 5/8/2018 8:35:00 PM
I don't know what part of this write is fictional but nonetheless it made me think about ignorant mob rule and how it can lead to barbarism such as this...an absolutely horrific humiliating painful way to die!~Che :)
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Greg Gaul
Date: 5/8/2018 8:42:00 PM
Cheryl the parts that are fictionalized are the people, family and the speaker. The actual killing account is very accurate, as horrific as it is. Thanks for your interest and thoughtful commentary.

Book: Shattered Sighs