The staunch and steadfast Reverend Jesse Jackson
American civil rights activist, aka Action-Jackson
This biggie and brave man, coined “Keep hope alive”
Founded The Rainbow Coalition, and that’s no jive!
Blessings, Rev. Jesse Jackson
3/6/26
KEEPING HEALING HOPE ALIVE AND WELL
(A LIVING EULOGY TO JESSE JACKSON)
Our hope is alive
In the healing grace of faith:
We shall overcome:-
Jessie’s chant nourishing us;
His spirit navigating:-
Mentoring with King,
He canvassed the dream’s vision:
Burak…Chapter One:-
Keeping hope alive, let us
Start visioning Chapter Two:-
Our hope kept alive,
Resurrected and rising,
Vision two coming:
Red flushed out, and black poured in,
With justice and equity:-
It’s in alive hope,
That true greatness is coming:
True democracy:
Rest in peace, Jessie Jackson;
You spirit lives on within us:-
You are not mourned.
You are recorded.
You still walk among us.
Yet history already carries your name.
When America was dark,
you spoke.
Not for yourself,
but for the beaten,
the silenced,
the forgotten.
You walked beside Martin Luther King Jr.,
hand in hand,
until the bullet spoke
what cowards could not say aloud.
You stood in Chicago,
where doors were closed,
and helped force them open—
through the Chicago Freedom Movement.
The state forgets quickly.
History does not.
When you one day meet Dr. King beyond this world,
tell him the truth—
racism still breathes,
hatred still organizes.
You wore faith without spectacle.
You spoke hope without illusion.
You knew that mercy,
to endure,
must be defended.
And through memory,
you endure.
Rest now.
History is awake.
And it remembers.
Hi-tech is my game
Analog to digital
I hail from Nashville
Over one hundred patents
I'm Jesse Eugene Russell
dear tall child,
your bones probably don't fit your frame yet;
they shift awkwardly,
and your spine hunches and slopes.
your hands are likely to be dry and grimy,
legs speckled with ant bites
that sting like fire.
spending those arid days snatching lizards off the hot terracotta wall,
next to the withered rose garden belonging to your shouting mother.
unfortunately for you,
the shouting will never stop;
your mother will bleed her vocal chords raw
trying to scare out your soul to place of her own.
there will be so much hardship,
but you will learn so so much.
so much.
to drown the world out,
just think about horses.
she will see you as strange
no matter what you do
just hop in the saddle
tighten the reins, grip the mane,
put your filthy Velcro sneakers into the stirrups,
and think about horses.
you will be a weird girl, it will hurt.
but suffering is just suffering,
and voices are just words.
you will become a strange young man, dear cowboy-
but you will always be that tall child.
a dear,
dear tall child
Jesse James
Albia Iowa’s claim to fame
remembering when the bank got held up
they celebrate annual Jesse James Day
in honor of the outlaw who did not hurt people
Jesse Duarte
Muslim South African
Dead just before age 68
Best known as antiracism fighter
Along with Mandela
That generation is dead, it's over
Self-serving "ANC activists & comrades" remain
To steal and blame (minorities)
II
Jesse was eloquent; loyal leader & 'spokesman'
"Diminutive woman;" Dedicated warrior
Never about herself
She died today
Will be buried today
Now, her religion shows
You were born with me
there were two of us
we were side by side
once upon a time
wished on a star
Both now with mom
she holds you tight
gives you a kiss
every night
Reflections
your spirits
together
brothers
again
Twins
Secret mysteries
open before us in the light of the Lord.
The flame of which does not burn but warms as the
sun’s morning rays. This flame penetrates the consciousness of man,
giving him a soul. Looking inward, the soul then answers this Divine call
of Love and becoming self-aware leaves behind egotism and conceit.
The Soul’s gaze reaches outward, opening to the beauty and
the truth of the Light.
It now understands
the Guiding Word
and Supreme
Harmony of
Heaven.
Joy found in her journey of life becomes
a collective symphony triumphantly singing a celebration
of life's journey in the tree of Jesse.
Imagine my surprise,
When David killed the bear!
I couldn't believe my eyes,
When the lion lay there!
Little did I know then,
God trained him for a fight.
A fight he could not win,
Fighting the Giant's fight.
Sent to the battle line,
His brothers' to report.
He heard the troll's malign,
And purposed to retort.
He'll fight God's way today,
His honor to uphold,
Running into the fray,
Killing the one who trolled.
Imagine my surprise,
The eighth and youngest son!
God shepherded his rise,
The Giant is undone!
Did not see this coming,
All of us scoffed at him.
Our lack of faith numbing,
Our view of God was dim.
My son sought God's glory,
Never fought for his own.
A shepherd boy's story,
Leading to Israel's throne.
The Lord is my Shepherd,
He trains me for a fight,
My heart for Him is spurred,
When faith transforms my sight.
Jesse rode with Quantrill as did his brother Frank
They were soldiers of the southland before they robbed a bank
Quantrill was a hero to the southern rebels when
He sort of lost control of his senses and his men
His troop was made of hotheads who completely ran amuck
And anyone who crossed them were simply out of luck
They terrorized the boundaries collecting their supplies
Unmindful of the damage, death and neighbor cries
Were they ever here in St. Joe, the rumors say they were
But that’s not been documented and old memories were a blur
There was a barn just south of Bartlett we heard about when young
That really peaked imaginations – kept old Quantrill on our tongue
Did Frank and Jesse go there, did they hide what they had taken
To supply our rebel bushwhackers or were we all mistaken
You know it really doesn’t matter if it was or if it wasn’t
It’s in the mind of dreamers and that my friend just does it
Two empty coffins...with unknown names
Saved for the unfortunates...of Jesse James
Made for the men, they say...Jesse killed
Only a matter of time, they'll both...be filled
An Epitaph To Make Me Laugh Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jesse Rowe
4-22-2019
Jesse F. Hunnicutt
1867-1908
They placed me near the gate, there,
My tall tombstone rising above all the others;
All were friends and neighbors way back when,
We Worked and worshipped together, in the presence
Of our Lord creator, and savior most wondrous.
They are all dead now, but are alive evermore in his grace.
Step inside this dead world, my friends.
Come closer, over here; Me and May are soundly sleeping
Here waiting, in the walnut shadows,
Down, way down here, sleeping the dreams of life and love,
Down, way down here…waiting…
Inside this heaping bed of rotting bones,
Dancing gaily in still death, as we once did,
Years ago, alive and alone,
Hidden deeply in the orange fields,
We touched our baptism with water, and fire!
And saw our god in the clouds that day.
Holy fire come
I surrender all
Thy Kingdom Come
we gather one and all
Here Down Under
On your hills and beaches
Holy Fire roar
Holy Spirit teach us
Glory to the One
Who gathered all the nations
Where can we run
For true salvation
Here Down Under
God is moving strong
Spirit-led prayer
In Australia leads us Home
Singing out to God
Who sent us His Only Begotten Son
Now, too, His Spirit
Fire, Holy FIRE, You're the Only One
"You have no rival; You have no equal
Now and forever LORD you reign
What a wonderful name it is,
The Name of Jesus Christ my King."
(Dedicated to the soulful praise and Christian music of Hillsong, and the faithful preaching of Brian and Bobbi Houston. This Church saved my sister in Cape Town, for which I am ever grateful).
Jesse was a common man
he never made a lot of money
he had a troubled marriage.
His wife left him for another man
he never saw his kids again.
Although he never wrote a book
he read hundreds of them
trying to solve riddles in his life.
But Jesse had a lisp, you see,
and others liked to laugh.
After he died last week
the undertaker poured his ashes
over the edge of an ocean cliff.
He liked to watch eagles dive
and carry away big fish.
Jesse was a common man
as are we whose whole is
greater than our parts.
But Jesse had a lisp, you see,
and others liked to laugh.
Donal Mahoney
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