Man Makes the Clothes

Man Makes the Clothes

                                                      Child is Father to the Man ~ Philip Brent Harris


Since I was small, I have so often heard it said,
clothes make the man, that it’s become clichéd.
Dress for success, mantra many a parent chants.
Only first impression, there’s no second chance.

Wise words some whiz said, logical conclusion;
words with great potential to generate confusion.
When imitation equals blind conformity, beware.
It’s manifest, thoughts, words, deeds, so prepare.

Innocent, it shows our needful actions advanced.
Police, firefighter uniforms, and status enhanced.
We can recognize, call them, so they aid or save,
help in harsh emergencies we hope to never have.

Still, bigotry and hatred are just another uniform,
some hidden, a hood or swastika worn on an arm.
While they may resemble you, anyone you know,
come in all shapes, sizes, an average Jane or Joe.

Oh, such people remain insular, generations on,
as pious isms dads, moms teach daughters, sons.
Envy, guilt suppressed, motives false, yet clear;
they will lose the hill-king spot, their worst fear.

Stolen people, enforced toil, chain encumbered
or we cruelly slaughtered, in millions numbered.
The once slaves, seek home in a land called free.
Proclaimed emancipated, won’t live next to thee.

Marginalized, mired, ghettos, slums of ill repute.
If you see they moved a toe, you’ll simply shoot.
All who do not look, think, act like you, suspect,
Portrayed evil, alien, other, deserving no respect.

Crusade and jihad, the same, intolerance so bold,
Only death, destruction, no matter how it is told
Say your god blessed, theirs damned, it’s absurd.
No god condones intolerance of thought or word.

Arms makers, dealers fatten, blood of the future.
Sons, daughters torn apart, not fixed by a suture.
Better weapons created, did old not kill enough?
Escalate, no end, brutal death the brew we quaff.

After testing the latest weapons against the old,
then, their older weapons are profitably resold,
criminals, patriots, militias, cowboys. any land,
small-town police forces; they find the demand.

Decided, when first response becomes extreme,
till polished riot shields, helmets brightly gleam.
We expect none resist our military pulchritude,
since we’ve encouraged them, render gratitude.

Our media, games touted, those who profit most,
Help them to easy lives; they should raise a toast.
They dictate how we live, who we hate and love.
Forget any hope, awaiting a miracle from above.

It is valid; what we wear becomes who we are.
Fuels my dread we’ve walked this road too far,
we do not have to choose the choices we chose.
We own the future, what choices, what clothes.


Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength,  Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment


Please, leave a comment and let me know what you think.

See more of my creative offerings and opinions at:

Brent Harris Fine Art

Philip Brent Digital Art

Vida Voices

Scriggler TPM

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