A walk in the park, listening to the birds and bees.
Visiting with other strollers, a smile and a hello.

Challenging my eyes with a glistening glow.
My, my is this going to be my life style to enjoy,
And cherish for the rest of my days?

If so, then those who must slave for others,
While I enjoy the freedom so greatly earned.

Copyright (c) 2004 “ A Walk in the Park”, Paul S Hickman, All Rights Reserved

Inauguration Poem

Seein‘ folks storm through the capitol halls
Wonderin’ if they got any sense at all
Carryin’ signs of indignant hate
Is this democracy’s future fate?
Online malignity is a booming industry
Spreadin’ false news while lyin’ miserably
Police gettin’ knocked down and beat
Puttin’ their feet up on Pelosi’s seat!
Weapons carried to the front door
But what is really at this here core?
What is the sudden hidden fear?
To lose all we hold so dear?
Is it Martin’s dream that scares us so?
Selfish citizens who want more?
Inauguration is on its way
Biden working hard to save the day
The nation has never been so split
I’m troubled too I must admit
So democracy I ask of you
What the hell are we gonna do?

[email protected] All rights reserved
Camille Elaine Thomas
January 18, 2021

“Show me thy Rituals and I will show thee thy Heart”.
          - Paul S Hickman

This Is Not My Dream

My mother call me “Martin”. Not just my name, but
  A strong spiritual tone in her voice. Seemingly, the
     Same as all the others at play. But, mine was
                      Different than theirs.

   Not even I could understand that hallow feeling
 Burning in the center of my chest. Swiftly, time was
     Passing through roads of life mine was unlike
      The others- too. As it seems like living in a
           Strange world. Peering, out into the
           Outer world. This is not my Dream.

     And, far beyond my reach, but the end was
 Not in my sight. There is much more to do more
               To do. This is not my Dream.

      Tears, rolling down my cheeks. People of
      All cultures embracing each other giving
  Love for a great loss. Marching, as one culture.
    I saw in my dream that BLM as the epitome
                        Of my dreams.

   Then, came the culture of the vile deed doers.
  As with me, the invisible battle rages on. Hearts
  filled with hatred, despair and fear of that which
      will come -violent. This is Not my Dream.

   Whose hand is this! Lord is that you? Martin!
 Your job is done time to come home. It has been a
 Long, but short journey with so much more to do.
    Wiping the paths of wrongness with care and
    Thoughtfulness. Sure, there were good times
                        Beyond the pale.

  Maybe, I can watch them from here as my soul
         Sails around until the end of eternity.
         I have a Dream! I have a Dream...!

© 2021 “THIS IS NOT MY DREAM”-Paul S Hickman-All Rights Reserved

   Tried to instill the inheritance from
The Ancient Africans-powering past the
       Objectives of the naysayers.

 Tooling the intelligentsia handed down
    Into viable workmanship of useful
         Growth into one of a doer.

(C)2021 “Stand Tall” -Paul S Hickman-All Rights Reserved

  Aw Shucks! Ya think it is over. How great are the
      Final remnants of the MAGA false tales. As
  The Sun sets over the gleaming white structures
        And the seams of destruction collapse.

    The seditious activity screaming up the stairs
   Into the hollow chambers so secreted even the
       Good citizenry cannot penetrate its doors.

    Aw shucks! The villainous souls came. Bursting
Through the windows- the doors dancing in the open
   Areas of the protectors as they trekked through
  The hallow hall into the secret rooms of the deed
      Doers. As though they were in the confines
                         of their Homes.

  Aw Shucks! Ya think it is over. How great are the
       Final remnants of the MAGA false tales. As
  The sun sets over the gleaming white structures
         And the seams of destruction collapse.
              Wait until the sun comes up...!

(C)2021 “AW SHUCKS”-Paul S Hickman-ll Rights Reserved

I am not a Bullets Prize
If you see me on the street...
Mindin’ my own business
Just tryin’ to live my struggles
Don’t eye me as a victim
Don’t faze out into paranoia
My wings have already been clipped
My vision wears contact lenses
There are burlap bags of refuge
Invisibly clinging to my dusky back
I don’t wear a bullet proof vest
Superman doesn’t live in my breast
If you see me on the street
Tryin’ to make some time
Going on my merry way
Why stop my innocent travels?
Is the word enemy written
Tattooed on my forehead
Does my presence threaten
Offend your noble sensibilities
Are you frightened by my appearance
Does it awaken disgust or despair
Is my present life of no value
Or do you not even care
If you see me on the street
Just remember this
My mother didn’t raise me to be no bullets prize.

[email protected] All rights reserved
Camille Elaine Thomas, 2016, 2021

New Year's poem 2021

https://youtu.be/vsczNJ6bcxQ

Paul S. Hickman was born in Tullahassee, Oklahoma -a small rural African-American
township. He attended a rural elementary school and graduated from the academic Manual
Training High School in Muskogee, Oklahoma.

During his 26 years of military service he completed four college degrees; a postgraduate
degree with Vanderbilt University-a graduate degree with Claremont Graduate University-a
graduate degree with Golden Gate and a bachelor with La Verne University in the disciplines
of Human Development and Counseling-Executive Management-Public Administration and
Economics. In addition- he chaired two Military “Black History Month” Celebrations with an
academic scholar from Oxford University and US Embassy Staff in attendance in the UK and
Greece.

After his retirement from the military he moved to Kifisia, Greece and was hired by
Southeastern College in Kifisia, Greece. He was an adjunct Lecturer for Embry-Riddle
Aeronautical University-The City Colleges of Chicago and the University of La Verne.

Because of his commitment to bridge cultural gaps-he was inducted into the American-
Hellenic Economic Progressive Association [AHEPA] HJ1in Greece where he was
instrumental in arranging a social function for the 1984 American Olympic delegation to
Greece with the Honorable Mayor Thomas Bradley-the Mayor of Los Angeles.

After returning to the United States- he penned and submitted a poem entitled “Spirit Eagle”
to the North American Open Poetry contest. His poem was selected for publication by the
National Library of Poetry.

Golden Apple Press published his poem “Simple Things” as the Editors Choice in their
publication entitled “Little Poems-Big Thoughts”. He was selected by the National Library of
Poetry to submit any one his poems for their collection of new poems in their “The Best
Poets” entitled Best Poems publication. The International Society of Poets rendered him a
free membership in their society as well as an invitation to become a Distinguished Member
of the Society.

He was requested to pen a poem entitled “To God-I Give My Soul” for a WWII Posthumous
Medal of Honor Recipient- Reuben Rivers- ceremony by the Military Officers Association of
Foreign Wars attended by the Governor of Oklahoma and the Senator Inhoff and other
dignitaries.

He has penned several poems [upon requests] that were presented to retiring and departing
personnel of governmental and corporate organizations. All of which were gratefully
appreciated.

He has a self-published book of poetry entitled “Days Gone By”.

Please welcome Paul Hickman to the GBC Poet Laureate Circle!
Paul is an active, experienced poet who has published works that delve into the depths of society.
We are looking forward to Paul's participation in the Poet Laureate Circle.
You can read/hear the poem, "Get Up -Do Something", by Paul Hickman here.

Paul Hickman from Greece - Read Paul's Bio

The other diligent members of our 2020 Poet Laureate Circle are:

Jasmine Cochran from China - Read Jasmine's Bio

Elaine Thomas from Germany - Read Elaine's Bio

Nadine Pinede from Belgium - Read Nadine's Bio

You can register to vote and request a ballot for the 2020 elections at https://www.votefromabroad.org/. The sooner you do it, the better. 

       The way God brings injustice to the surface.
       As the virus swirls into the core of the world.
                    We huddle in our homes.

Reviewing the martyring of one-before our very eyes.
 Seeing for ourselves the vile deed doers of America.

   Now-to cleanse the disease from the ranks of the
 American Culture. While some shudder at the fear of
   Their ending of a place Not destined to be theirs.

    Out into the streets into the mist of the virus of
 disease and hatred. Under the Protection of God-moving
                    The time past 400+ years.

 Into a clear meadow of Spirituality and Brotherly love.
                    Get up-Do something!

     Away! Away! You vile deed doers Away! Away!

(c) 2020 “GET UP -DO SOMETHING” by Paul S. Hickman - All Rights Reserved

Ever seen a catfish or a carp flopping on the water-less grass.
Huffing and puffing for air for the water to be purified through
Their gills into their lungs.

Some men are like the catfish and the carp. Flopping in earthly zones
Beyond their reach.

Yet trying to lie on a fruitless surface made of stone and soil.
Constricted by their own failure to swim in waters far from the snares
Of the fisherman's hook.

As the hook tears into their mouth and holding on tight with only two
Ways to freedom. One by the hand of a gifted man. And the other by
Tearing the flesh and breaking free with excruciating pain.

Diving back into the water into freedom from the hook of man.
But- so many end up in a place of not returning to their former life's
Trail of their destiny.

(c) 2020 “Ever Seen A Catfish or Carp” by Paul S. Hickman - All Rights Reserved

Worrisome days pass
As do troublesome nights
Like fallen autumn leaves
And hungry birds in flight

The ducks will always find
A safe place to nest
While shoppers with masks
Rush on their way to rest

The water flows gently
The dike full of walkers
That stumble along nimbly
Amidst the cheerful talkers

The north wind blows
The ships all lie still
Dusk falls with no warning
As I slowly bike downhill

I see an old man staring
At some park’s gravestones
Appearing somehow pensive
Looking so all alone

I think about the winter
And remember last fall
Another day almost over
Yet I worry not at all

Still glad to be alive
To enjoy another day
To reflect again the seasons
And bike a new pathway

Camille Elaine Thomas
December 17, 2020

Global Black Caucus Power to the People Podcast

By Democrats Abroad Global Black Caucus

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I took a breath today.

I realize I haven’t done that lately
Not in quite the same way
But today

I took a breath.

Today, hope replaced dread
Anticipation replaced anxiety
A sense of progress replaced the surety of the usual daily briefing
of regression

Today I breathed.

I sighed relief for all the work we’ve all put in
And thought with pride
Of who all placed their skin
In the game of democracy

             We tried the system
                           We tested it
                                        And we won

So I took a breath.

And momentarily mourned
All the relationships I lost
Once truth became too much
All the anger I’ve held in my back
All the sorrow of friend after breathless friend
Victims of hubris, of freedom that overstepped
All the lines people crossed in their boldness
              Lines in the sand
                           Lines water couldn’t wash clean
And I sighed
And welcomed back all that can start again
Now that it’s over

I’ll sit in this breath

Just for a little while
Before we inhale collectively
And exhale through the labor of
Accountability

But not today

Today I danced
Today I smiled
Today I laughed
Today I pondered
Today I reveled
Today I rested

I took a breath today.

Jasmine Cochran

November 7, 2020

A Voter's Sonnet

Unjust Indigestion

Her death could have been avoided
If someone had listened to her cries
Someone left their trainers on the porch
Then muddied the house mat

They called their names in villages
And marches around the world
But the circus revolves
And the clowns keep prancing

The videos of despair continue
But weariness has sluggishly settled in
While pessimism weaves pathways
Behind the invasion of frolicking trolls

The choices are paltry
But the steps need taking
For when the mockingbird sings
Scavenger crows return home to rest

For when need is stronger than desire
And torment incites lingering disgust
Then the time for fall sowing
Comes before the spring reaping

While the chants are still being sung
With self-righteous fervor
Yet, the rhythm must be woven anew
To still the tide of pending disaster

Camille Elaine Thomas
September 20, 2020

In the Fall of Corona

If you have three apples
And I have none
Wouldn’t it be fair
To give me one?

If you have a house
And mine is gone
Would you sit and ponder
Where the fire came from?

If my husband was killed
And yours still lives
Is there some support
That you could give?

If my land was in war
And I had to run away
Would you give me space
a safe place to stay?

If my child lies crying
face down on the ground
four police on his neck
no justice to be found

Well, what should I do?
What if we changed places
And you were me
And I was you?

Camille Elaine Thomas
September 15, 2020

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