Glenda’s son.

Everybody
knew me as Glenda’s boy
back when you were the big name
in our activist circles!

I wanted out!

So I went off on my own
and found my activist
work in Nuclear Free Zone
of Louisville. I was 15 –
your name and work was
oppressive to my identity.

Everybody knew the immigrant’s
kid, born on East Jefferson St.
Mellick’s youngest baby –
even the Outlaws around
the block knew not to mess
with you.

Last night,
I “Lifted Every Voice!”
in a trade found of
harsh labor.
My voice was tired
and weary from missing
yours. a sound – 
that feels
oh so close these days
and nights of longing.

Feeling called –
I put a rose over my door
to invite soft conversation.
To conjure spirits
in kind, luring lost souls
to action – ghosts –
calling them, home.

As our organizing used to
be, coffee, child, mother –
lesson plans and your
want to see me shine.
Your birds out the window
my childhood home
your eyes and strong
words – Everything is
an Educational Moment -.
and I could do no wrong!

and We honor our elders!
at all cost. and in that
respect, they are placed
in a position of
understanding. A giveaway –
as known by native
voices – sometimes
i feel, like a motherless
child – but last night
at the Unity Dinner
i felt as if I
was being called
home.

Johnny Paul