Muhammad Ali


I missed Muhammad Ali’s death.

I was up on the mountain and no one mentioned it.

When I came down and opened Facebook, I saw advertisements that made it seem that Ali had died, but sometimes click-bait articles do that to lure readers in. But I clicked anyway, wondering if it could be true.

It was.

We all knew it was coming. The man was 74 years old, after all. But as Boots Riley says in “Everythang” every death is an abrupt one.

Ali was famous when I was just a kid. I remember my cousin singing

Muhammad, Muhammad Ali
He floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee
Mohammed, the black superman

But no one told he was against fighting in Vietnam. I didn’t learn of the following quote until well into my adulthood.

I didn’t know how to express my sadness at Ali’s death. I’m not surprised that Alice Walker honored him much better than I ever could.

The Long Road Home

©2016 by Alice Walker

I am beginning to comprehend
the mystery
of the gift of suffering.
It is true as some
have said
that it is a crucible
in which the gold of one’s spirit
is rendered
and shines.

you represent all of us
who stand the test of suffering
most often alone
because who can understand
who or what
has brought us to our feet?

Their knees worn out
ancestors stood us up
from the awkward position
they had to honor
on the floor beneath
the floor.

I have been weeping
all day
Thinking of this.
The cloud of witness
the endless teaching
the long road home.

I offer my gratitude to both Alice Walker and Muhhamad Ali.

Poem from

About Blaize Sun

I live in my van, which makes me a rubber tramp. I like to see places I’ve never seen before, and I like to visit the places I love again and again.

I like to play with color. I make collages and hemp jewelry and cheerful winter hats. I take photographs and (sometimes, not in a long time) write poetry. All of those things make me an artist.

Although I like to spread joy and to make people laugh, my wit can be sharp. I try to stay positives in all situations, to find the goodness in all people. But I often feel compelled to point out bullshit when I smell it.

I like to have fun, to dance, to eat yummy food, to sit by a fire and share stories. I want to know what people hold dear and important, not just make surface small talk.

This blog is a way for me to share stories. This blog is made up of my stories, rants, and observations, as well as my photographs.

One Response »

  1. Pingback: Deaths of 2016 | Rubber Tramp Artist

I'd love to know what you think. Please leave a reply