You May Not Walk Away

You May Not Walk Away

When police stop you, you’re told submit, don’t fight.
Then you’ll come out of the situation with your dear life.
I take issue with this statement, so I’ll shed some light
Being black ,you may still get killed, and it’s just not right!

A black man was alone watching tv one Saturday night
Secure within his home, he should be all right.
All of a sudden there’s a bam. His door busted open by a battering ram,
The old  black man died with the remote control in his hand.
He didn’t fight. He didn’t run. He met his death by a policeman’s gun

Another time across from Garfield High School
A man was in a house , not acting like a fool.
When the blue line burst in and said ,On the ground,”
He  submitted right away. His black  hands were bound.
The next thing that I tell you makes me feel  like we were clowned.

The Blue clad one said , I  have no idea, I just don’t know
I tripped on a rug and the gun, it did explode and
Through the man’s head  a  deadly bullet did go
And the black brother died there on the ground below.
He didn’t fight. He didn’t run. He met his death by a policeman’s gun.

Did you forget this happened, and it curdles my blood too.                                                                                                Two black men left IHOP with a woman who was white.
The police followed, keeping the black men in sight
For no real reason they made them stop.
When their mission was over, one was shot by a cop.

The story came out the black men did everything right.
They were out with a friend to have a good night.
The cop pulled his gun out and approached the car.
My hand snagged on my sweater and  the gun trigger went too far.
An innocent black man died within the car.                                                                                
He didn’t fight. He didn’t run. He met his death by a police man’s gun.

Then there is  another that breaks my heart too.
Philandro Castile you remember, I know that you do.
Stopped for an infraction of a  broken tail light.
Late one evening with the darkness  of  the night.
Castile was being honest when he told the cop
I have a CW permit when he was stopped.
Reaching for his license he was blown away.
A bullet pierced his heart and he died that day.
He didn’t fight. He didn’t run. He met his death by a policeman’s gun.

I think this is what I am trying to say.
Even If you  don’t fight,  Even if  you  don’t run away,
There’s no guarantee you won’t die this day.
This is why we are scared, and very angry too.
It doesn’t matter what ever we may do.
We may not walk away alive, and you know its true.

Patricia Simpson Newton May 28, 2020

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Calming the Storm

Everybody on the ship with the fleeing prophet Jonah
Knew that there was something wrong, just like this  VirusCorona.
The captain demanded of the sailors, to your  god you must pray.
On your knees, intercede, or we 'll  surely die today.  
Jonah slept, crusty

sailors wept, which made the captain say
How can you, Jonah,  sleep, when the ship is rocking this way?

The crusty sailors knew, this storm that brewed had an eerie, unearthly feel.                                        Casting lots to confirm their suspicions well earned, drawn lot  the answer  revealed
Jonah pulled the shortest straw, and when they questioned him just why.
Jonah confessed, I am the man causing  stress and to you I will not lie.

I’m trying to flee from the great  God above, who reigneth up on high
The ticket I bought  bringing you such bad luck is the reason that you might die.
To stop this dread,  just pick me up, throw me into the roiling sea.
But the sailors' compassion and fear of depression said, No, we'll stand united with thee.

As the sea  grew rougher, this decision was tougher,
The sailors asked the fugitive once more,
Jonah what is it  that we can do to make it safely to shore?
 The fleeing prophet said this is my fault, so overboard I must go
The sea will not quiet while I reside here,  there’s no other way I know.
The sailors panted, groaned and strained with the oars to row back to some land
Giant angry monstrous waves hit the deck, announcing that this was God’s hand.

With very heavy panicky hearts, but fearing for their lives
The sorrowful sailors took the prophet up, and flung him out to the skies.
Looking below, with amazement they saw when the ocean Jonah hit,
The sea calmed down, the waves were still, which stabilized their ship.

More frightened now than ere before, to God the sailors prayed
They made a sacrifice to the God Jonah introduced to them earlier that day.
Vows to change their lives they took, for they indeed  had survived.
Those sailors knew they’d never had such a wild,  extraordinary ride.

And Jonah lived to meet the whale and take a stranger trip
Than any sailor ever had on that tossing, bucking ship.

What is the lesson we should learn from Jonah’s life today?
Stop and ask why this turmoil now,  as to God we humbly pray:
Open our eyes Dear Lord above and Help us all to see
Where we went wrong and point us to where  now we need to be.
Lord we repent all options spent, no other help we know
Our heads we bow, we’re listening now, we whisper very low:

Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be they name
Thy kingdom come Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven
Give us this day Our daily bread
And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors,
And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil
For Thine is the Kingdom, and the power and the glory,
Forever, Amen.

March 22, 2020

A Tribute to the Stillborn and Miscarried

God knit me in my mother’s womb He worked me head to toe.

God shaped my features from His plan. God knew to heaven I’d go.

                 I rode along within my mom,  her womb was warm and soft

        A fluid filled my earthly home. I felt so close to God

God took me from this safe place and took me home above.

My first breath was of heaven’s air. My first step was on golden sod

My first taste was of angel’s food. My first seat was at the Throne of God.

My first home were mansions, where no sin has ever trod.

The first words that I learned to say were praise, and hallelu’

The first time that I raised my hands was to praise God as I do.

Joy and gladness everywhere, such grandeur all in view

I’m privileged to be safe in heaven. I’m waiting here for you.

When I think of earth below, I know that you feel sad

But if you could but see my home, oh my, you’d be so glad.

I’m sure I’d loved to have been a part of your circle too

But, I made no stops there on the earth. I came, God, straight to You.

I came early to this place of everlasting rest.

From womb to heaven God did take me to heaven by express.

So now I’m waiting for the ones who’ll come from earth below,

But in heaven I’m best friends with my Jesus here,  you know

Yes, I’m best friends with Jesus now and I’m waiting here for you.

By Patricia Simpson Newton     January 26, 2004

A Different Kind of Easter

No new outfits needed,

Though they never were.

No showing of fashions

Or preening in fur.

No big family gatherings,

Though some never did.

No Easter egg hunts

Or eggs to be hid.

No time for excuses,

Though some surely will.

It's time to reflect

 on Calvary’s Hill.

No time to ignore that Christ 

Hung on the cross.

Christ  paid the price

So your soul won’t be lost.

The tomb is now empty

And so are the pews.

A different kind of Easter

The decision is on you.

No music here to move you,

No offering you need bring.

The question I ask you.

Will you Make Christ your King? 

Happy Different Kind of Easter!!! 

Written 4/12/2020 as Covid 19 wreaks havoc on the earth

God Travels Incognito

God is traveling incognito observing us all

He may look weak or appear six feet tall.

We in our self-will and insolent pride

Don’t see God traveling with the poor at His side.

We’re haughty, disdainful and judging each man.

Not realizing one missed paycheck and there we could stand.

We have our excuses and we pull them all out

To explain why the poor don’t deserve a hand out.

Go get a job, your choices were bad,

And when you say it you don’t even feel sad.

If you planned for the future you wouldn’t be poor.

Not knowing poverty could be at your door.

What I read in the Good Book does not ask me to say

Why in the world are you living this way?

It does say to give to those who ask,

Questioning why, is just not our task.

Now I know it’s hard to hear these strange things

When  the poor are viewed as lazy and deserving of shame.

But God’s riding incognito throughout this land

Are you willing and able to give God a hand?

"God didn’t say that," I hear in response.

Look it up for yourself,  God said it more than once.

It’s embedded in Scripture for all to see

When you give to the poor, you have given to Me.*

*Proverbs 19:17 Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the Lord,

 and he will reward them for what they have done.

In My Feelings on Covid !9

Silently stalking the world of today
Can't see it or smell it
Can't wish it away.
Weightless on Scales,
Heavy on the mind,
It even has people standing in long lines.

Governors bow to the power it wields,
Halting government's processes, stopping its wheels.
Mandated cessations,  forced delivery of meals
No congregating for the health of the public's weal.

Children are gathered beneath parents' feet
No escape to the school house, no respite this week.
Newly working from home few know how to do,
Asking each other and with great  grumbling  too.
How do you do this work at home and stay sane?
Many are frustrated and begin to complain.

The Stock Market shutters and starts its wild ride
No one knows how how its ending or how far it will glide.
Futures and equities, 401's start to quiver
Investors, retirees  get some  wild jitters.
The Federal Reserve tries to calm all the nerves,
But its not enough, we worry, can they make this sharp curve?

How could something that the naked eye can't see
Hold such power  just how can it be?
Causing worldwide changes in a matter of days?
Causing millennials  and seniors to change up  their ways.
We can't see it or feel it til its work it has done,
More powerful than a bullet from a smoking gun.

There is no vaccine  or treatment that we know
Washing one's hands, so the virus can't grow.
It's the best advice given while they search for a cure.
None of know how much of this  that we can  endure.
If we want to survive ,we must work together now
Let's turn to God to show us just how.

Some are stranded and cannot get home.
Many are living afraid and alone.
College students are wondering, will I get my degree?
Others are struggling no paycheck they'll see?
There are no answers and no end in sight,
Unprepared for this sudden darkening of light.

Our Father in heaven hear our desperate prayer.
Save us from worry and from our despair.
Give us today, the grace to go on
Until this storm is over and a new time is born.

And Yet We Complain

I've been thinking of something I’ve seen on the news,
On Facebook and Instagram and other platforms too.
Mumbling and grumbling about what Covid19 has done
Interrupting our lives and spoiling our “well deserved”fun.

March18th about quarter to twelve I started to think all is not well.
Like other Americans I'm spoiled, now I see
I mistakenly thought  disasters will never touch  me.
Here we sit in on our couches never felt this forlorn,
Watching Netflix movies, eating microwaved popcorn,
Never contemplating that this for us is a temporary thing,
But for many of earth's peoples this is what daily life brings.
And  because we feel put upon, yet we complain.

“Go and self isolate” say the experts who know,
But there are many Americans who defiantly say “No!”
Flocking to beaches and rocking the bars
Til’ the governors say now, you’ve gone just too far.
While some others around the world  have no where to go,
The sidewalks,  and alleys  is all that they know.
They live and they die there alone in their pain
And because we feel put upon, yet we complain.

Bottled water at a premium if any you can find,
Has made many people act like they are losing their minds.
They come early to buy  as soon as its bright
Only to find the shelves stripped bare of everything in sight.
The person who came before them bought all the toilet tissue up
Then they leave pushing cartfuls with a look  that says," Tough."
While some others around the world walk mile after mile
To get dirty water carrying it back without being riled.
Getting sick from the bacteria that’s swimming within
Not immune to  unseen bacteria  that may cause them their end.
For there’s no clean running water to  us they explain.
And because we feel put upon, yet we complain

“No school,"  frazzled parents say. I must work at home.
How can I  manage my children alone?
While we empathize greatly,  but we’re all  trying to plan
How to get through this crisis now that everyone’s been spammed.
While some around the world have never a schoolhouse seen
They struggle and try hard to learn, no relief there will be,
For there’s no one to teach them and no money to pay
The school fees required to send children away
To find an education that is far, far from home
Everyday is a struggle,  but they manage alone.
And because we feel put upon, yet we complain.

What’s the point of this missive you rightly may say?
Well let’s take a long look  at what we have today
And then maybe we won’t be grumbling and acting so bad.
We’ve taken for granted the things that we have.
That now when they have ceased temporarily we are mad.
If for a few weeks or months they are gone
Let’s understand  and be grateful that it won’t be that long.
While some in the world suffer year after year
No water or education,  constantly living in fear.
When Covid 19 is  conquered and a far distant thing
They’ll still be struggling, pressing forward just existing.
And because we feel put upon, yet we complain.

Covid 19 tells me that I have  been blessed,
It's only temporarily causing us a great deal of stress.
I was birthed into a country, while not perfect I know,
Has allowed me to thrive  to work and to grow.
Education, clean water with many good things.
I can sit here and relax all sheltered from rain
Not experiencing forever the piercings of others' daily pain.
Self isolating, social distancing although its a chore
I Will Not Complain and I’ll not be a boor.

I will be grateful.