Blood is the new black: A stab at poetry.
A very talented hip hop musician in Oklahoma City is working on his new album "Blood is the New Black". He asked his friends and fans alike to leave a voice message with something relating to the title: what does it mean to you? I wrote this in about five minutes drawing on the title, my disdain for people who ask me how many people I killed or friends I lost in Iraq, and my disillusionment with the "Support the Troops" culture of America today. No, ribbons and prayer are not enough. So, while I usually have no problem expressing myself on here, I publish this with great apprehension, as this is the first time I have delved into poetry, something I am painfully inept for. (I think poets have to have a sense of rhythm.)
Blood is the new black,
in America and in Iraq.
How much blood did you shed?
How stained is your shirt red?
How much blood did you cause to flow?
None? Then why'd you even go?
You served your nation?
Patriotic and patient?
I wasn't there, soldier; I was back home pacin'.
I'm going to need some proof, need a receipt.
How many bodies did you put six feet deep?
Blood is the new black,
in America and in Iraq.
But I've never done the popular, never been trendy,
Never betrayed my soul because the air is windy.
I don't have any stories to tell of raisin' hell,
but I sleep at night knowing I treated them well.
Blood is the new black,
in America and in Iraq,
Now here's your ribbons of support,
I don't want 'em; take 'em back.
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