Wednesday, February 14, 2018

A Poem of True Love

I kept my heart in chains just to talk to you. 
For ten years, at all times.
I see the world in your eyes, when I look at them, and as I do, I wonder if I'm in there too.
I speak with terror, because I know too well the venom of unrequited love. It paralyzed me before. My mind, my body and my soul. but my love for you releases me. and even if I fall instead of fly into your arms. while my heart speaks its truth, it does not know the difference. 
My love, if you are my love, talking with you from the bottom of my heart may be my idiocy, but it is the most divine and the most intoxicating. And if you said that you loved me once, even if it was not true, the world would be so much more magical. all the ice of my heart would melt, and rise through unbroken light. But it is enough simply to say I Love You. And I hope I did not embarrass myself. losing your company would be a shame too great to bear. look in the mirror, look in your own eyes, see if I'm there.

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

Let There Be

As long as the wild fire rages for days on end engulfing all in its path. 
As long as the flood waters continue to rise until there's nothing left but murk and destruction.
There will be a city that rises from the ashes, a people who tame the waters, and rebuild their houses--stronger to resist its wrath.
As long as there are men in bondage, and men who grow fat and rich from their misery, 
there will be those who take up the hammer to tear down the prison, and use the shackles of the enslaved to tie up the wardens, and march them through the streets.
As long as there is a dream deferred, a hope unrealized, and a well laid plain destined for ruin, 
there will be one who lives the dream, one who learns to hope anew, and one stoops again over the drawing board and dares to dream again.
And as long as there is one solitary voice, alone, crying in the wilderness for freedom,
there will be Art in America.

Monday, January 1, 2018

The Upper Room

IN The Upper Room

A one act play in two scenes

Cast:

Jonas: A salty sea captain with a red beard and stocky build
Jeffries: A medium build caucasian male with a baseball cap tee shirt and shorts
Humphries: A deckhand with long hair
McGee: A deckhand, also with long hair
Yellow Girl: a light skinned woman

The play takes place between the hull and upper deck of a slave ship.


Act 1, Scene 1

Jonas: Wake up!

Jefferies: Oh dude, I must've fallen asleep. Where are we?

Jonas: Nevermind that son. That's none of your concern.

Jefferies: What?

Jonas: Go fetch me that ladle please.

Jefferies: What ladle?

Jonas: Don't argue with me boy, get up and fetch me that ladle…THE WOODEN SPOON BOY! GO FETCH IT WILL YE?

Jefferies: Sure, sure. I'm sorry…You still haven't-

Jonas: Haven't WHAT LAD?

Jefferies: You…

Jonas: Eye?

Jefferies: …

Jonas: is that all?

Jefferies: I and U? Here we are together. Just you and me?

Jonas: Now fetch me that ladle or I'll send Somebody to BEAT YOU.

Jefferies: Hey wait…what's that sound?

Jonas: It's the sound of the Demons.

Jefferies: Demons? Demons aren't real :)

Jonas: Well sure they are! You're real, I'm real. Angels and Demons are real too of course!

Jefferies: Where are we?

Jonas: We're in HELL boy.

Jefferies: Hell?

Jonas: Yes boy, HELL. Trapped in the belly of a great whale (rolls eyes) the name's Jonas lad. What's yours?

Jefferies: Stuart Jeffries.

Jonas: So you're Scottish TOO i take it?

Jefferies: I don't catch your drift…I'm an American sir.

Jonas: No…you're Scottish. Sorry. That first name is English. But the last…well, I'm afraid Jeffries is Scottish.

Jefferies: Well, what's your last name?

Jonas: Doesn't matter. Could be anything. Pass me those bowls will ye?

Jefferies: Sure, sure. Bowls. Here…

Jonas: Humphries!!! ( he yells up the stairs) McGhee!!! Come down here lads. (foot steps can be heard coming down the stairs)Takes these down to the Nigers.

Jefferies: The what?

Jonas: The Nigers.

Jefferies: Don't you mean N-

Jonas: DON'T SAY THAT WORD!!! God HATES that WORD!!! We call them where we found them. The Niger River. The Dogons helped us catch them.

Wait, what's going on. Where am I?

Jonas: Nowhere.

Jefferies: …

Jonas: Somewhere between Africa and America, that's all I know boy. I'm not the Navigator. Humphries!!! GET DOWN HERE NOW!!!

Jefferies: Oh…my head hurts. I feel sick.

Jonas: Did they drug ya?

Jefferies: Drug me?

Jonas: Eye.

Jefferies: Who? No, no, I must've just drank too much last night.

Jonas: Ha! That's what they all say.

Jefferies: Who's they?

Jonas: The Black People.

Jefferies: Wait, I'm not Black!

Jonas: Your name's Jeffries. You're a Scotsman.

Jefferies: Wait, but Scottish people are supposed to be WHITE, right?

Jonas: WHAT? WHERE? Maybe in Heaven with the Angles. But no no sir, you're Black. Blacker than me, I signed up for this job. You must've gotten Shanghaied.

Jefferies: Shanghaied?

Jonas: Yes! Kidnapped you idiot! Hoodwinked! Bamboozled! Gods you're stupid. A Great Scot, just as dumb as the rest of us. Jeffries. Humbug. (The man stands up, walks up the stairs) When I call for you I mean NOW DAMMIT.

(two men appear on stage)

Jonas: Mr. Jeffries, this is Mr. Humphries. Mr. Jeffries is going to help you take this gruel down to the Nigers, isn't that right Mr. Jeffries? Right. Now go!

(The men depart)

-------End Scene 1---------

Act 1, Scene 2

Jefferies: Oh GOD, that STENCH!

Jonas: Yes, I told you we were in Hell boy. But not the lowest hell. That's reserved for them. For the Niger People. You look like a good boy Jeffries. Can ye read?

Jefferies: Well, yeah. I can read.

Jonas: Good. They don't recognize you yet. Take the book, go down to the hull and start reading.

(Jeffries departs from the stage. A voice booms over a loudspeaker, loudly.)

Now it came to pass in the thirtieth year, in the fourth month on the fifth day of the month, as I was among the captives of the River by Chebar, that the heavens were opened and I saw visions of God. On the fifth day of the month, which was in the fifth year of King Jehoichin's captivity. 3. The word of the Lord came expressly to Ezekiel the priest, the son of Buzi, in the land of the Chaldeans by the River Chebar, and the hand of the Lord was upon him there.

Then I looked, and behold, a whirlwind was coming out of the North, a great cloud with raging fire engulfing itself; and brightness was all around it and radiating out. of its midst like the color of amber, out of the midst of the fire. Also from within it came the likeness of a man. Each one had four faces, and each one had four wings. Their legs were straight, and the soles of their feet were like the soles of calves' feet. They sparkled like the color of burnished bronze. The hands of a man were under their wings on their four sides; and each of the four had faces and wings. Their wings touched one another. The creatures did not turn when they went, but each one went straight forward.

As for the likeness of their faces, each had the face of a man; each of the four had the face of a lion on the right side, each of the four had the face of an ox on the left side, and each of the four had the face of an eagle. Thus were their faces. Their wings stretched upward; two wings of each one touched one another, and two covered their bodies. And each one went straight forward; they went wherever the spirit wanted to go, and they did not turn when they went.

As for the likeness of the living creatures, their appearance was like burning coals of fire, like the appearance of torches going back and forth among the living creatures. The fire was bright, and out of the fire went lightning. And the living creatures ran back and forth, in appearance like a flash of lighting.

Now as I looked at the living creatures, behold, a wheel was on the earth beside each living creature with its four faces. The appearance of the wheels and their workings was like the color of beryl, and all four had the same likeness. The appearance of their workings was, as it were, a wheel in the middle of a wheel. When they moved, they went toward any one of the four directions; they did not turn aside when they went. As for their rims, they were so high they were awesome; and their rims were full of eyes, all around the four of them. When the living creatures went, the wheels went beside them; and when the living creatures were lifted up from the earth, the wheels were lifted up. Wherever the spirit wanted to go, they went, because there the spirit went; and the wheels were lifted together with them for the spirit of the living creaturs.


Jonas: (shouting down to the hull) Get the girl! She's the only one who can speak english. I don't know how she learned it, but she can speak it. You'll recognize her becuase she's more fair than the rest. Looks…I don't know, Exotic. But how she learned to speak English is anyone's guess.

Yellow Girl: Oh Jesus! Thank you Jesus! Thank you for bringing me out.

Jonas: See how pretty she is? How does it feel to be back up here with the Angelos?

Yellow Girl: Oh my lord, I can Breathe!

Jonas: Are you still with child?

Yellow Girl: No sir...The midwife…she took good care of me.

Jonas: I see. Jeffries! She's yours. Now BE GENTLE! We don't want to damage her. She's the only one who speaks our language. Must've been by GOD somehow. The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Jefferies: I don't want her.

Jonas: Then you'll be a lefty all your life. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Jefferies: Stop laughing.

Jonas: You know how they wipe their arses in India boy? They use their left hand.
The WRONG hand. Same way we do. cept they don't use papyrus…they use the bad hand. The evil hand. So unless you want to be an evil man for the rest of your life. You'll take this Niger-ess to be your wife. They don't want her back. She's bad luck. They call her yellow. That's the only english word they know. Yellow. It's all we can do to keep them from tearing her to pieces. If it weren't for the chains…well it would be a lot less quiet in The Upper Room.

Jefferies: Why can't Umphries take her?

Jonas: Umphries is a citizen boy! You're just a NOBODY.

Jefferies: I'm not a Nobody! I'm an American!

Jonas: HAHAHAHA!!! You hear that boys? This lad here thinks he's an American!Listen up Jeffries, you're just as American as she is, so you'd better shape up. Now we're NOT SENDING HER BACK DOWN THERE. UNDERSTAND? She's a miracle worker. She kept them from screaming…Until Humphries and McGhee here decided to abuse her. Looks scowling. Kept me up at night. All that howling, and hollering. The chorus of the damned.

Jefferies: Well, there doesn't SEEM to be anything wrong with her.

Jonas: Not on the outside. But it's what's INSIDE that counts Jeffries. Not outside. You know the one's that brought the Niger people to us were just as black. Dressed in Robes they were though, like noble romans. These folk were stark raving Nude, Naked as the Day God Cursed Noah and ordered him to spit his Ham into the Sea. Black as the Devil Himself. Black as a Klansman.

Jefferies: As a Klansman?

Jonas: Eye sir. Blacker. A Clansman can be Irish, but that's no good. Running farther away from King Richard just makes you easier to catch in the end. The Lion ALWAYS defeats the tiger. That's the Law of the Jungle. Have you BEEN to America Jeffries? Or do you just like to call yourself an American?

Jefferies: I'm an American sir! I was born in Indiana!

Jonas: Indiana territory were you?…where abbouts?

Jefferies: Indianapolis.

Jonas: Indianapolis? Did they find Redmen who speak Latin? HAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Jefferies: Well no…everybody there speaks English!

Jonas: Yes most of them do. Now anyways. Indianapolis…that's very interesting. A Greek City on the Frontier. Such a shame.

Jefferies: Where are we going?

Jonas: VIRGINIA!

Jefferies: What's in Virginia?

Jonas: More of the same. Nothing. Just you and me, the she devil, and Humphries/McGee that makes five...give me the she devil, your wife, hand her over.

Jefferies: she's not my wife.

Jonas: Your Cousin then. Just hand her over. She'll come quietly. You wait here. I'll return shortly. (The man takes the yellow skinned woman upstairs). And comes back alone. Ah there!

Jefferies: There, what there?

Jonas: Nevermind that. I took her to home, to Heaven…to be with the Angelos! HAHAHAHAHA!!!

(THE SOUND OF SCREAMING CAN BE HEARD UPSTAIRS)

Jonas: AH YES! THE HEAVENLY CRIES OF THE ANGELOS LAD, HEAR HOW THEY ROAR!!!

(SILENCE)

Jonas: Well I guess that's it. It's over. (Jonas goes to the wall and scratches a number in chalk next to 7 hash marks.) We'll be feeling that one. She would've made a fine Creole Whore. The Angelos boy, they just can't control themselves. A bell is rung. Huh. That means we're ready to weigh anchor. The angelos must've had mercy. It's not yet midnight, she can still find her way to shore. 'Land Ho!' Alright. We're here. (The sound of footsteps can be heard clambering down the stairs filling the room which is now suggested to be full of people mumbling to each other.) Alright lads! Now listen! When we open those doors, all Hell's going to break loose, so be ready! On Three.

1.

2..

3…!!!

 (A loud crashing sound, angry voices. can be heard an overwhelming stench trails behind them.)

Jonas: Tell them to follow the Light! The Light takes them to heaven!

Blackout

END.



Tuesday, April 22, 2014

The Smell of Poverty

I find that there is something intoxicating about the aroma of poverty.
A quality that hangs in the air after one's departure.
It is not a fetid odor or stench but rather a baked in smell that
brings to mind pots and pans caked with grease, a baked in aroma
that carries with it the living room, the playstation console and
unlit tobacco smoke.

The air of the people whom we call the poor is rich with the
intoxicating flavors of life that covers us like a collective cloak
of invisibility that hides our shame while we aimlessly,
endlessly search for that possession last seen only in a dream
that always vanishes upon waking.

Friday, January 4, 2013

Writing is bad for you.

When did I stop writing things?

My thoughts and feelings throughout the day?

No patience to sit and write them,

No inclination to seize the day.

When did I start being someone

with nothing ever much to say?

With no time to count his blessings,

or lay...


I used to enjoy writing things,

so when did I stop, and Why?



Thursday, May 24, 2012

A letter to Freedom



Dear Freedom,

I woke up this morning on the last day of packing to head back down south. Bloomington has not been altogether unkind to me, but if I had only known that it was my skin color that prevented my peers, my own 'white' peers from accepting me and my art, I would have saved myself a lot of pain and wasted energy. My best friend Eric is coming over later to help me finish painting the house. Once this feverish explosion of energy finally wore off, I was told to separate the last of the items in the three upstairs bedrooms. All that's left are old family pictures of people who are unrecognizably transformed, but thankfully all still living. The Hutchinson family is still alive. I have taken great time and great care in separating what I want to take, and what I want to leave behind. Now the movers, who are working on a deadline are telling me pick out which paintings go to my dad's new house and his new life in Ithaca, New York and which of my paintings go back with me and my Mom to his old life Oak Ridge, TN. What is strange, is that I've finally been able to let go of any preconceived notion of what success is and how it is defined. What is strange, is that I've hit that moment of surrender after the last fervent expenditure of energy that hits young artists who are entering their 30's. I am not afraid of the next wave. I am not afraid of the ones who left me behind. I am not afraid of anything but God now, and I have done my best to earn his Forgiveness. I feel like this is normally the point of a person's life where they look back and decide that to surrender to Destiny is to fail. That the struggle is pointless. I have surrendered to Destiny, but I have not resigned to failure. It is impossible for me to do so. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. I have not committed suicide as many often do, I have not discarded my paintings as many often do. The only thing that I have surrendered is the desperate belief that I too was White. The only thing that I hold onto is the present moment, and the urgency with which I have to abandon this town that has turned so fully against me and flee once more to secluded territory where I can be with my Mom and my Grandma in her twilight years. I have surrendered at last once and for all. But it was not in defeat, it has been in the knowledge that I have already won the battle, my put down my arms, and look over all that I have worked so hard to achieve.

-Spencer Hutchinson
Thursday, May 24, 2012
12:15pm

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

The Prince

The Prince

As the light arises from the sun,
still in the fire of its dawn,
Honor follows its luminous train.
The prince is back in favor.
In its wake, ever follow,
Grace and Victory.
He has all the rebels dancing,
a son per family won over.
They find you talented,
but your luck could quickly change.
A pity.

Favor, reknown and peace.
now all join in the universal chorus.
to celebrate he who
with his divine rays
brings down to earth
Life and Light.

This child.

He is no longer a child,
He is a King.