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Giftus R John

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I Hear It Ring
by Giftus R John

Tuesday, December 31, 2002

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I hear it ring
I hear the damn telephone ringing.
I hear it
I’m near it
And it keeps ringing
And the kids stop singing
But I won’t get up
I want it to stop.
This damn phone
Is driving me nuts
Let it ring of the hook
I can’t stop
Reading this book.
Finally it stops
But it starts again
Just as my daughter starts
Singing a new song
And the clock on the wall
Goes ding dong, ding dong, ding dong
In it’s measured monotonous call.
I pick it up the handset
I am getting fedup.
It’s another sales pitch
By some kid for a
Telephone company
Asking me to switch
But I am in no mood
For listening to what he says
Even if it sounds good
And I hang up even as
He keeps on speaking..
Damn these telemarketers!
I’ve got something better to do
With my time this morning.
I keep reading..I am enthralled
By this character who reminds
Me of my racist boss who thinks
I’m racist too.... well!
We had a fight of words
In his office yesterday
And I think I may not return…
The damn telephone rings again..
Once, twice, three times
Until my daughter picks it up..
Daddy it’s for you she shouts..
Is it him? I somehow wondered.
This damn racist!
Is it him calling to apologise
Or tell me of my demise
Tell me it was unswise
Of me to do what I did
What of his racist deed?
What of it?
Did he think of it before
He said what he said
Like many before him
Who spew venom from their
Mouths of hate and bigotry?
The clock rings again
It’s usual refrain
Ding, dong, ding, dong
And my daughter starts another song;
By the Rivers of Babylon…
And she stops as he remembers
I am on the phone..
But I am not
I am still wondering whether
To hang up or answer…..
I hesitate and speculate
On my fate..Is it too late?
Yes…but there’s no one there.
Hello, I answer again..
But the line’s’s quiet..
They’ll call back..
If it’s important they will
And I pick up the book again
And begin to read some more
Feeling sorry for the poor bastard
Hanging from the end of the rope
He had no hope poor thing..
Maybe that’s me too..
But I ain’t gonna hang from no rope
No..I ain’t cause I won’t lay back
And let this bastard do what he will
With me…I’ll rise up
And get up
And stand up
For what is right
Whether it be black or white
Capitalist or communist
Liberal or terrorist
I ain’t gonna lay back and play dead
I’ve got to move ahead
Like we will..
Yes like we will after these
Bastards destroyed our lives
Like these maniacs killed
Our sons and daughters
Our fathers and mothers
Our husbands and wives…
We’ll raise our eyes to the sky
We’ll walk with our heads high
We will rise America!
We’ll rebuild our cities and our lives
We shall rise again
And we will sing our refrain
God Bless America…
In snow and rain
In sun or cold
We’ll rise up together.
And the telephone rings again…
Four times
And the clock on the wall
Repeats its refrain again….
Ding dong, ding dong…
As my daughter sings another song,
An old negro spiritual
That we sang at church on Sunday
And the telephone goes silent
Like the guy on the end of the rope
As his body hangs limply from
The hangman’s noose
Blameless and innocent
Though he was..
His life is snuffed away.
And in another sad story
The bigots had their way….
Again today…..
I wonder if any telephone
Rang that day….

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Reviewed by Tien Avielle (Reader) 12/31/2002
cut the wires, we must widen our view - not to spread our self-image over the world, but to unite all peoples in one spirit of humanity in it's hightest form.
Reviewed by Patricia Gomes 12/31/2002
Got caught up in your staccato cadence and enjoyed myself thoroughly.
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